Lioness of Stormwind: War of Kings
by Vahn
Summary: This is a sequel to Lioness of Stormwind! This is also a spin off of Fate Stay Night. Saber dies at Camlann and is reborn on Azeroth, this is her tale. Anymore then this and I would be giving away plot details!
1. Exodus

Warcraft belongs to Blizzard

Fate Stay Night belongs to Typemoon

Warning! This is more of a spin off instead of a direct cross with modern day Fate/ Stay Night.

_**READ THIS FIRST!:**_ This is a sequel to **_Lioness of Stormwind_**, you might or might not be lost if you read this without reading the first part.

Timeline: ?

Special thanks to the following editors who have decided to remain on board for this story :D. Cheeser who worked tirelessly on this fic, Wayfarer who, despite his busy schedule, still find time for this fic and Xbox432, who seriously spent time on this fic. Serious time. Thank you all!

Lioness of Stormwind: War of Kings

Exodus

***** Six years since Humans encountered Orcs****

Fifteen year old Varian Wrynn looked at his father's corpse, stunned and unsure of what to do. His father had just been killed by someone he had viewed as an aunt, Garona Halforcen. He had been hiding when she stabbed his father through his heart but she had seen him. Yet she did not finish him, instead leaving him alone in the throne room as she walked out with his father's heart in her hand.

He wasn't sure how long he had stood there, but the next thing he knew, a figure hugged him tightly.

"There you are lad!" Regent Lord Anduin Lothar breathed in relief. He stared at his friend's dead body and nodded to the soldiers he brought with him, telling them to take the King's corpse with them.

"She killed him Lothar... she killed him," Varian whispered as tears flooded his eyes.

"I know lad, I know," Lothar replied comfortingly. He angrily thought of Garona. Her betrayal was foul beyond measure. Already, news was reaching the men, and the will to fight simply left them. King Llane was dead, the Archmage Medivh also dead, even the Lioness of Stormwind was dead. She, who had been the light when he had been held prisoner for two years in the Deadmines.

"What am I to do now, Lothar?" Varian asked in a small voice.

"You will live lad, live and rule Stormwind again, I swear it!" Lothar declared, holding the boy's gaze with his eyes. "But first we have to retreat, the others are already at sea, and we'll catch up with the main armada soon enough."

"We're abandoning the city?!" Varian exclaimed in shock. He could already see the edge of the city going up in smoke, probably from the filthy Orcs.

"Only for now, we will return lad, we WILL," Lothar promised as he place a hand on the Prince's shoulder and walked him out to his war stallion. Putting the boy in front of him he nodded to his aide to sound the all retreat.

Stormwind was lost to the Orcs, everyone was to fall back to the harbor and to go north, to Lordaeron, to warn King Terenas of the impending invasion. He had discovered what they truly were when he slew Medivh. The Orcs were a bigger threat than any could have imagined, a threat that Medivh spent years protecting them against before unleashing it on Stormwind.

At least many of their people were still alive thanks to the young noble Arturia. In a moment of foresight that surprised even him, she had set about building ships and training sailors. Many had called her foolish at the time for wasting resources. The Orcs where on land, not at sea. Many owed their lives to her, and more people were able to be saved now thanks to her.

Though they had scored victories, the Orcs proved too numerous for them to hold back. Medivh had imprisoned him during the war so that Stormwind would have been disorganized. For two years during his disappearance, young Arturia Pendragon held the line against the Orcish horde, stopping them in their tracks. That girl had proven to be much more than some simple country peasant girl.

The young lass not only took over at the behest of his successor, Lancelot, she put together a string of impressive victories that halted the Orcish invasion. She had truly earned her title of Lioness of Stormwind during his absence. After Lothar had been rescued by Lancelot, Khadgar, and Garona in the Deadmines, the girl simply stood aside to let him lead again. Lothar could have taken the reins of leadership right there but he had seen the looks in the men's eyes, the generals, even his own successor. They would follow that blonde girl to the very gates of the Twisting Nether if she so commanded.

Arturia was a proven leader and in the year that he got to know her, she reminded him of their late King, Adamant. It was no wonder the late King had spent so much time with the girl. Her mind was fascinating, her dedication to duty unshakable. It was hard to believe she was a raised a peasant. The girl had been relentless in her campaign against the Orcs and together with him, she had wreaked havoc on the battlefield. Soon she had become the most favored daughter of Stormwind and many slept better knowing that Arturia Pendragon was defending them despite the fact that the enemies had invaded over half of their lands.

All of that changed when she died. The people had faith in King Llane and Lothar of course, but the death of Grand Marshal Arturia Pendragon and Knight Commander Lancelot was a demoralizing blow. Her entire unit of twenty thousand was completely wiped out during an engagement right by Stonecarine River. The Orcs had flooded through their open lines and proceeded to leave nothing but devastation in their wake. It was about that time when King Llane began to entertain the thought of abandoning Stormwind. Slowly the war became less about winning but instead about escorting their civilian populace into to safety of the city while they built more ships to flee the oncoming darkness.

Taking one last look around the Throne Room, Lothar saw the little carved wooden lion figurine that Arturia had gifted to Varian seated on the Prince's throne. The young Prince had named it Arthur, the masculine variant of Arturia's name. Smiling, he took the carved animal and put it into his pouch. He would return it to the Prince after they have gotten to their ship. The sound of explosions in the distance made Lothar furrow his brow in sorrow.

"We will return Llane, Adamant, we will take back your country and your son shall rule. This I vow," Lothar declared to the now empty room before turning around and walking out.

++++Ruins of Stormwind City ++++

Doomhammer swung his great maul down onto the head of the Human on the ground and grinned as the blood splattered onto his armor. Looking up, he saw the once great city of the Humans burning just like those of the Draenei. Around him he could hear the Orcs torturing the captured survivors before ending them. Foolish Humans. There was no resisting the might of the Orcish Horde. Not when their 'Saber' had been lost.

"Warchief!" Varok Saurfang of the Blackrock, came up to report. "The pathetic Humans have escaped on ships out to sea."

"Is that so?" Doomhammer, new Warchief of the mighty Orcish Horde, asked. His new position was due to him taking it from Blackhand's corpse. They should have never killed Durotan. He owed Gul'dan a visit after this but first he pondered on what to do. He could leave the Humans be, but they could come back in greater numbers. After all, weren't there more Humans in lands to the North?

More sections of the city caught fire as the Orcs looted the abandon houses and buildings. Others took the armor off the dead Human defenders to see if it would fit on them. This was their reward as they sacked the city. Varok looked at it all, pleased with the destruction as he waited for his Warchief's orders.

"We will go after them," Doomhammer finally replied with a savage grin. "We will follow them and wipe out the very last of them. All of their lands belong to the Horde."

Varok had to smile at the proclamation before looking anxiously at his Warchief. He wanted to be among the other Orcs and let loose his bloodlust on what few defenders still remained.

"Go, tell our warriors to raze this city to the ground, I do not want to see a single stone left standing, this shall be our mark on this world!" Doomhammer gloated as he heard his warriors cheering in reply. The only thing that could have made this moment perfect was if he had the little golden demoness' head. Now that would have been a worthy trophy, but if his men's reports were to be believed, great dragons had saved the Orcs that day. To think they had dragons here; Zuluhed's clan will have their work cut out for them.

"Die MONSTER!" A teenage Human boy screamed, tears streaming down his face as he charged the big green Orc with a shortsword.

"Not today young warrior," Doomhammer said in respect. It took courage to try and attack him, even more so against someone several times your size. Even Rend and Maim, Blackhand's children, did not dare fight him. "Your race was doomed the moment it met ours."

The teenage boy's sword was batted away by Doomhammer's mighty maul before he grabbed the boy by his neck. Lifting the defiant Human up, he swung his hammer down on his head causing it to burst like a rip melon.

Dropping the corpse, the new Warchief of the Horde walked around the burning city, savoring their victory. He really, really, wished that he had Saber's head.

++++ Weeks Later, The Great Sea++++

This was the largest Exodus in known history as the survivors of Stormwind, comprised of old men, women, and young children under fifteen, all crammed into thousands of ships of all sizes to flee north to the nation of Lordaeron. They had started their evacuation process months ago but their first ships were slower because of their sheer size. They had to travel in groups slowly lest they be picked off by pirates. Though the people of Stormwind had lost their homes, their families, and their loves ones, they were not yet broken, they would band together and if any pirates dared attack them, they would regret it. It was here that the final group, Lothar's group, caught up with them.

Lothar watched as the Prince sat on the ship deck, gazing out at the sea once more. In his hand was the familiar lion figurine. It had not once left his side since he had gotten a hold of it.

"Are you hungry, Your Majesty?" Lothar asked kindly.

"Lothar, I am not a King. You don't have to call me Your Majesty anymore," Varian corrected as he looked down at his lion.

"And why would you say that lad?" Lothar inquired kindly once more as he took a seat next to the boy.

"A King has a country. I lost mine," Varian replied sadly. His blue eyes downcast at his admittance. "I am not worthy to be King."

"That fault lies with us, not you," Lothar told the prince. "You are still King, your people love you and when you meet King Terenas you will have to do it as a representative of your people."

"How can I, Lothar? How can I face another King when I have nothing?" Varian spoke softly.

Lothar smiled, the boy was well versed in politics, more so than Llane or Adamant, but that did not make him weak. He also excelled at combat and proved to be better than most boys his age. Still, the boy had doubt.

"Well, lad, do you remember young Arturia Pendragon?" Lothar asked and saw Varian head perked up at the name.

"Yes..." Varian replied as he turned his blue eyes back on the wooden carving in his hand.

"Do you remember how she commanded the banquet hall's attention when she was called before your grandfather?" Lothar asked as his eyes smiled at the memory.

"Yes," Varian answered with a nod. He had only been nine at the time, but he still remembered how the Lioness of Stormwind presented herself before everyone. How she moved, how her eyes gazed at her surrounding as if weighing their worth with but a glance. And how he desperately hoped that she wouldn't find him wanting.

"Well look at all she did! A mere peasant girl from the Black Morass stared down another king, and she had less then you now," Lothar reminded his future King. He then looked at Varian's face. "I believe that she would have expected you to be a King worthy of your father, Prince Varian."

Varian's eyes widened and he nodded firmly. Even though she's dead, the thought of her looking on from the afterlife judging him, made him strengthen his resolve. "I won't let us down."

"Good lad, we're all depending on you," Lothar finished and ruffled the boy head affectionately. Squinting in the distance he could already make out the shores of Lordaeron. They needed more men to fight the Orcs. They needed an Alliance of kingdoms to stop the Horde.

*********** Quel' Thalas, Silvermoon City ***********

"Gawain! Gawain!" Alleria Windrunner, sister to Ranger General Sylvanas Windrunner shouted to the ever mysterious handsome brown haired Elf. The reason for Gawain Sunseeker's mystery was because of his status among the High Elves. Even after over a hundred years of service to Quel'Thalas he had never sworn loyalty to King Anasterian and had refused all posting to be in the High Elven courts, yet his distinguish service to the people of Silvermoon was unquestionable. Once when she was but a young Elfing and smitten with the handsome short haired Elf, she asked him why he did not swear fealty. His reply had been cryptic and confused her to this day. Gawain merely told her that his loyalty lay elsewhere and he was waiting for his master to call upon him.

"Yes, Young Alleria?" Gawain Sunseeker asked the pretty long haired blonde Elf. He had been reborn on this world over two hundred years ago and still he waited for his king. The Lady of the Lake had said he would not keep his form, and she was right. Yet, if that was true then her promise to let him serve his King again would also hold true. He would just have to be patient. Looking at the young Elf before him, he saw her blush at the way he addressed her. Gawain couldn't help it, he remembered when Alleria was a mere Elfing, lost in the forests. She and her sister, Vereesa, would forever be young to him.

"The Humans sent an envoy to King Anasterian! It's causing quite an uproar!" Alleria announced excitedly. She was curious by nature, even more so then her sisters.

"He will probably turn them away again," Gawain ruefully commented. The fact that his race did not like Humans was no secret. Yet because of who he had been in his past life Gawain found he had a soft spot for the Humans. In fact, though he lived longer as an elf then a human, he found that his desire to return to his King's side was as strong as ever. His Human King he mentally corrected. Thankfully, somehow, the Lady of the Lake sent Galatine, his trusted sword with him to this new world. That was why they called him Gawain Sunseeker, his sword was empowered with its magic.

"He could not, they invoked the Thoradin Pact, he is honor bound to send aide to the Human kingdoms!" Alleria said excitedly. Because of what King Thoradin did for her people, King Anasterian had promised aide whenever the Arathi royal bloodline called for it. They had all assumed the Arathi royal line was wiped out, yet it appeared there was one left. An Anduin Lothar. She had read about Humans and while they were viewed as just a step above Trolls, her people HAD allied with them. She had wanted to see one but her sister, Sylvanas, had forbidden her from going to the Human lands to see what they were like.

Now that did surprise Gawain. "Thoradin's Pact? Really? I thought the Arathi blood had all but been expended," he mused while looking at the pretty elf.

"Apparently not so! The Arathi bloodline has called upon us to honor our debt, and King Anasterian will honor it by sending a fleet of elven destroyers to aid them along with any who might volunteer," Alleria said in awe before looking at Gawain conspiratorially. "I plan on volunteering and bringing my rangers with me. According to the Humans, some creatures called the Orcs destroyed one of their kingdoms to the south and threaten us all, but King Anasterian is convinced the Humans are exaggerating."

Gawain had to blink at that. Naturally all Elves underestimated Humans, as they viewed Humans as infants and toddlers with their short life spans. Yet Gawain was once a Human and his perception of Humanity was not so biased. If the Humans were threatened and they were banding together for it and requesting help, then it was something serious. Especially since he knew how big the Human kingdoms were. He ventured out into the Human kingdoms every ten years to look for news of his king. Still,if the humans lost a kingdom then he would need to go see the threat for himself.

"I will join you then young Alleria," Gawain said as he looked at the ranger who looked back at him in surprise.

"Then where you go we will follow Lord Gawain," an older female High Elf, who had kept silent thus far, said from next to Gawain. Her name was Andria and had been Gawain Sunseeker's right hand for over three decades. "I will go gather the others."

Gawain nodded as his second in command set about her duty. His numbers were few, no more than a thousand, but they were some of the finest Elven knights in the land.

****** Kalimdor, Deep within Ashenvale *****

"Guardian Lakesong," a pretty Night Elf apprentice approached the beautiful Night Elf woman that was guarding the Night Elves most revered relic.

"What is it Kalrian?" Bedivere Lakesong asked in the musical language of the Night Elves as she opened her crystal blue eyes to look at one of the Guardians of the Sacred Sword.

"I had a vision, I think," the young druid answered. Unlike most of the males who chose to walk the emerald dreams, she stayed back. She was in the presence of one of the most mysterious Night Elves in all of Ashenvale.

"Please tell me what you saw," Bedivere prompted. It had been almost three hundred years since she began waiting for her King. The Lady of the Lake had not been lying when she said she would not be as she was in the new world. She had become a legendary Fae creature, an Elf. Yet these Elves were different from the ones from her legends. Sure she was a forest dweller but there was a magic and beauty to everything the night Elves did. Even the whimsical wisps were quite amusing to talk to as they told her about their day.

Bedivere had been born a man in her old life but now in this new life she was a female night elf. She wondered what her King would think of her now. Was her King reborn as a Night elf too?

"I, I am not sure, I saw war, death, destruction, and a golden haired female from a race I have never seen before battle another cloaked in red," Kalrian said as she could still recall the sensation of being on that battlefield. "But that was not what was strange. In my dream, that female clad in blue was holding Elune's sacred sword!"

Bedivere's eyes widened. "What did you say?" she said sharply as she grabbed both of Kalrian shoulders.

"It was such a strange warlike dream but why was it filled with so much death and regret," Kalrian wondered sadly. However, she saw the Head Guardian unveiled a rolled up cloth parchment.

Bedivere wanted to know, she had to know. Taking out her private painted collection she unrolled the cloth painting for the Night Elf to gaze upon. She was excited when Kalrian appeared to look at the figures in the painting with recognition.

"That's them!" Kalrian said as she saw the painting of the golden haired armored female in blue wielding Elune's Blade in her left hand dying at the hand of the figure in red. The red figure had run her sword through the blue one but the blue one had rammed a spear through the red one. Both were locked in combat, both were fated to die. The two stood there over a sea of blades and bodies.

"My King..." Bedivere whispered softly while she looked at the portrait she drew of Camlann. Does that mean she was closer now? Was the time nearing when Bedivere could serve her King once more?

* * *

**First War Timeline:**

New Calender system implemented. From now on the new age would be refereed to as the Age of Chaos or AoC for short.

**AoC Year 0**: Orcs Open the Dark portal and invade. Their forces were crushed at Three Corners. Forced to sue for peace until they could build up their forces, they sent the Half Draenei -Half Orc, Garona to do so with Durotan as their spokesman.

Began the buildup of New Marshal's Keep

Lioness of Three Corner, later crowned "of Stormwind", made her debut.

**AoC Year 1**: Orcs takes a different approach to the war. They began a massive buildup of forces consisting mainly of Blackrock clans. Wolf Riders are ferreted over through the Dark Portal to counter the Knights of Stormwind.

New Marshal's Keep was rebuilt under Commander Arturia Pendragon of the new noble House of Pendragon. Estate in Lakeshire bequeathed to Igraine Pendragon by Governor General Lady Mara Fordragon.

Courtship of Squire Gawain and Cleric Tiffany begins in Earnest.

**A0C Year 2**: Archmage Medivh ambushes Lothar and holds him captive in the Deadmines.

Orcs broke the peace treaty and launched strikes at Stormwind in three different directions. With Archmage Medivh's help they flood into Sunnyglade through Deadwind pass.

Commander Arturia pinned down at Marshal's Keep by Orgrim Doomhammer.

King Adamant died in his bed.

Prince Llane was crowned King.

Lancelot became the defacto leader of the Brotherhood of the Horse.

Stormwind halts the Horde invasion but not before losing half of Sunnyglade and half of Redridge to the Orcs. Still no communication from Marshal's Keep.

Orcs began terror campaign of wiping out farms and villages

Medivh began assassinating mages to cripple Stormwind's magical abilities.

**AoC Year 3**: Orcs gained more ground and threaten both Sunshire and Grand Hamlet. They build bridges from Sunnyglade to Elwynn Forest, threatening Goldshire.

Sunshire siege begins.

Commander Arturia breaks from Marshal's Keep but suffers heavy losses. Is forced to abandon the Keep and goes to link up with Sunshire garrison to break the Orcs' siege there.

Lancelot goes to assist Lakeshire with a force of fifteen thousand Knights but is ambushed by a large force of Wolf Riders. He's forced to turn back as more than half of his forces are killed. Squire Gawain killed in combat.

Orcs threaten to overwhelm Stonewind Keep. Defenders are whittled away and townsfolk are moved into the Keep.

Bronze Dragons heads to the continent of Azeroth having found the source of the disturbance.

Arturia Pendragon break the siege of Sunshire and routed the attacking force. Forms a strike group of knights to hit the Orcish horde's weak spot behind the lines.

Blackhand the Destroyer pushed into Westfall ignoring Grand Hamlet and razed Moonbrooke. The De Luc family is killed with all their retainers.

In the summer of the fourth year, Commander Arturia breaks the siege of Goldshire and burned the bridges leading into Elwynn Forest. Lancelot turned over command to Arturia and, with his full support, began a counter attack.

In the Fall of the fourth year, Governor General Mara Fordragon broke the siege of Stonewind Keep and destroyed the Orc encampment forcing them to retreat.

Medivh continues to assassinate mages, further crippling Stormwind's magical forces.

Grumblings of discontent arose from the Orcs due to their string of defeats and being pushed out of Elwynn and Westfall.

**AoC Year 4**: Lothar is found in the Deadmines and freed. Command of Stormwind Forces is returned back to Lothar by Arturia. Arturia is promoted to Grand Marshal of Stormwind.

With a new Commander General in place, Arturia begins her counter offensive to wipe out Horde forces with Lancelot and an army of thirty thousand.

Lightning raid on Orcs settlement in the Black Morass makes the Horde concerned for their family. Rockard, a new settlement near and staging point near Redridge, is razed by Arturia's forces.

Bronze Dragons arrive in Stormwind to find the source of the disturbance.

During the Fall of the Fifth Year, Grand Marshal Arturia Pendragon's forces were assumed to be wiped out at Stonecarine River by three separate Orc forces. No bodies could be found, the corpses of her forces are commonly believed to have been desecrated, as is Orcish custom.

**AoC Year 5**: Lady Mara Fordragon abandoned Redridge and evacuated the town of Lakeshire. Fought a running retreat all the way to Stormwind but not without incurring horrendous losses.

Medivh's treachery is discovered and killed by Lothar, Khadgar, and Garona at Karazhan.

Truth about the Horde is found out, King Llane decided to abandon his kingdom to save his people, recalls all his force from across the land to start the Exodus to the North.

Grand Hamlet falls, the De Luc brothers die.

Siege of Stormwind begins while ships are being constructed for the populace. Wood is taken from the buildings of Stormwind to create more ships.

Lord Barrington died during a siege engagement.

King Llane was betrayed by the Orc hybrid, Garona and was assassinated.

Lothar, last of the Brotherhood of the Horse abandons Stormwind City and flees North. Named Regent Lord to a force of little more than a couple of hundred veteran soldiers.

Stormwind Kingdom fell.

**AN:** What the fuck right? :D Lioness of Stormwind was just Saber's Prologue, now her real story begins. ^_^ If I was able to make people even lament the Fall of Stormwind and the death of my O.C Character, then I am pretty happy. That meant they were in the reader peripheral vision, so to speak. If not, then In all likely hood I sucked as an author.

Gawain- Yeah, I went there! High Elf? Excalibur Galatine? Fits perfectly. As for how he got there before Saber? Recalled to the very first chapter of Lioness of Stormwind. Vivian and Elune combine their power for Lancelot and Arturia. Gawain and Bedivere was sent via Vivian solo. Magic is not perfect ^_^

Bedivere- He had the VA of a woman in FSN, and after looking up his legend a bit more, since his FSN iteration was kind of vague. Turn out he is considered a pretty boy and know magic. He is also presumed, in real arthurian legend to be the origin of Lancelot and might have been Guinevere original lover. In editorial, they made Lancelot that one and regulated Bedivere to a handsome pretty boy but faithful to Arthur. Using creative control he's now a Night Elf Female. Booya!

Warchief Doomhammer- That's canon, reports on how he attain his Warchiefy status is up for debate. Some said he killed Blackhand when he least expected it. While other say he fought the man in an honorable duel. We may never know. Doomhammer is also not influence by demons of any kind. He never drank the demon blood, that's why he's so clearheaded.

Durotan- Unfortunately by this time he is dead, he was pretty much sick of his race thrist for conquest, he left to find a place in Lordaeron to live in. Gul'dan had him assassinated. That prompted Doomhammer to clean house.

After this, all the dead bodies of the Brotherhood Knights will be raised back from the dead and use to house Orc souls. They will later be known as death knights. ^_^

Garona- She been a sleeper agent all this time! She was magically brainwashed and didn't realized she cut out Llane heart until she did the deed. That is why the human racial ability is "Perception" It allowed them to stealth people. An interesting fact, after Garona gave Guldan Llane's heart. Gul'dan ate it.

As for what actually happen with Saber, well. Bronze dragons gonna do what bronze dragon gotta do. Open the Dark portal for Medivh? Check. Help cull Stratholme with Arthas? Check. Raid a human settlement and help the Orc get free? Check. All of these boil down to one thing. They want to do what is right for Azeroth, and they will ensure the best possible future for Azeroth. Stormwind needed to fall for them. Saber was standing in their way.

Now, I said before that it would probably make a lot of people angry or shock. Well, I had to, it has always been my intention to do it this way, not make people angry or purpose but to go this direction. Stormwind part was the set up, needed to establish Saber^_^. The changes she caused was threatening to snowball out of the Bronze control. They nipped that in the bud. As for what happened to her? Well. Read the next chapter, you will see ^_^.

Thank you for all that left passionate reviews and gave me nice thoughtful P.M! That's why I write fanfics, so we can geek out as one. I hope the second Arc response will be just like the first :)

As always C+C Welcome, reviews Appreciated!


	2. Chapter 1

Warcraft belongs to Blizzard

Fate Stay Night belongs to Typemoon

Warning! This is more of a spin off instead of a direct cross with modern day Fate/ Stay Night.

Special thanks to Cheeser who still doing HARD work. Wayfarer who actually got me to tweak scenes here and there to make it even more "bodaciously awesome!" Yes, that is a Panderan saying. And finally Xbox, Pounded this thing out in record time!

NOW, the REAL Story can begin.

Lioness of Stormwind: War of Kings

Chapter 1

**** Fifth year of the Age of Chaos ****

Grand Marshal Arturia Pendragon and her forces had rode hard to engage the Orcs at Stone Carin Bridge. It had been a long and brutal war for the people of Stormwind, but with the Lioness of Stormwind on their side, they were pushing the Orcish Horde back. The Orcs found that taking land was one thing, holding it was another.

It had been reported to the High Command that three separate Orc forces were trying to link in eastern Elwynn before making a push towards Goldshire. Grand Marshal Arturia had devised a daring plan, to strike each army before they could form. She and her personal unit, known as the 'Lioness' Pride', had met and then destroyed the first Orc group crossing over from Sunnyglade in southern Elwynn. That Orc force had been caught unaware and wiped out.

Moving on, the Lioness caught the second force out of position near Stonecarine River by Eastvale and was in the middle of routing them when the Orcs received unexpected help.

Grand Marshal Arturia had been in the midst of the Orc ranks, covered in orc blood when four Bronze Dragons swooped down from the sky and attacked her force. To the soldiers' surprise, the Lioness moved to engage the serpentine beasts as if she expected them.

The first dragon breathed its fire on her, but it was blocked by her mythical sword. The moment the fire touched the blade, a golden light emitted over it's length. Seeing its attack blocked, it swoop down quickly and snapped the Grand Marshal up in its jaw, intending to swallow her whole. No sooner had it bit down on the Grand Marshal, the top of its head erupted, spraying skull bones all over the battling forces.

Covered in blood on top of the dead dragon was Arturia, who's eyes were filled with promises of death.

The brutality of her attack stunned the remaining three behemoths. Switching tactics the three beast breathe their fire a single point at the mortal girl. To their surprised, the girl lifted her sword and somehow warped their flames around her body, as if she was in a protective sphere.

The male of the group, dive bomb at the girl. He saw the blonde mortal slashed her sword at him. The next thing he knew his wingspan had a sizable cut in it, veering him widly out of control as he crashed into the battlefield. Thankfully the mortal armies gave him a wide berth. Looking at his wings, he was angered to see the wound. It was as if she cut him with some sort of invisible air attack.

It was Erozion, the leader of the task force, that signaled for them to stop their assault and instead took on humanoid forms to fight the Grand Marshal using martial skills.

Sir Lancelot had started to move some Brotherhood Knights to assist his king when he found himself under attack by the Horde. The Orcs saw that their only chance of salvation in the bronze serpentine beast and intercepted the famed knight's forces. Such a sight did not discourage the Lioness of Stormwind, however, as she battled the humanoid-dragons.

"You do not belong here! You must not interfere!" the bronze dragon, turned humanoid, Erozion, accused the blonde Disturbance in front of her. The mortal girl had killed her mate Vorinos in a brutal fashion that had stunned her two companions. What should have been a quick, easy fight had turned deadly in the space of a few seconds. The magic they had assaulted her with had thus far simply washed over her, leaving her unaffected. The fact that the young Human could match the strength of a dragon was disconcerting. It was almost as if she had the strength of one herself, which was impossible. Even half breeds weren't that powerful. Currently, they were trying to find a gap in the girl's defense, which was a task that was proving quite difficult with her speed.

Saber ignored the dragon woman's comment. Their motives did not matter, they arrived, they attacked her forces, and they attacked her. They would die. She upped her brutal offensive and saw one of the shorter females try to cast another spell at her. Thankful for her high level of magical resistance, she ignored it, only feeling a slight stinging sensation.

Chromie had taken on a more human form instead of her more favored gnomish appearance to try and help Erozion defeat this Disturbance. After many years they had tracked the elusive Disturbance here to Stormwind. A mortal girl no less, a mortal girl that just killed a two thousand year old dragon and her friend, Vorinos.

Suddenly, Saber switched stances, throwing off the woman in front of her before giving her a vicious back hand slap with her gauntlet. She could feel the woman's jaw break at her strike. Reversing the blade she charged the male dragon and beheaded him before he could react then quickly kicked the last dragon female in her chest. The sound of broken bones could be heard from where she connected with her powerful kick.

Erozion could not believe the monster they were fighting in front of them. The girl had just killed two dragons on her own. Add to the fact that the Disturbance's blade was of a magic Erozion had never seen before and was able to slice a dragon so cleanly. Where was it from? Why hadn't the Blue Flight taken it? Any more thoughts on the matter had to wait as the Disturbance was moving toward her friend Chromie. There was only one thing she could do. It would mortally wound her, but they would all die anyway if this continued. Picking up her double bladed weapon, she charged at the Disturbance while channeling her titan's gift. They could not kill the Disturbance but they could move her. It was going to be a wide area affect but it was better than nothing. The only draw-back was she wouldn't be alive to see it.

Chromie's eyes widened as she saw what spell Erozion was casting, even as she charged the Disturbance. Bowing her head low, she got to her feet and transformed back into a dragon even as the Disturbance's blade caught her in her belly. Roaring loudly in pain, she took to the sky just as Erozion's final attack detonated.

When the light faded, Chromie, the last suvivor, looked back down at the area and saw the entire force of Stormwind and the Disturbance was gone. Milling around were the Orcs that had been on the verge of defeat. Their job was done. Stormwind would fall and then their world's future would be secured.

Everything was as it was meant to be.

******* Twenty-two years Later, Elwynn Forest *****

Theocritus, a mage of the Tower of Azora, located near the Eastvale Logging Camp, was looking fearfully in the direction of Stormwind. Not too far away was a Scourge Necropolis hovering above Stormwind City itself. He could make out an aerial battle of some sort going on but could not determine the details. Below him he saw that some undead ghouls had made their way here, not a stream like in Lordaeron but a few dozen worth at least. Already, his gnome servants were trying to fend off the undead things when something peculiar happened. It was a tickle on his mage senses, as if the mana in the air was being squeezed. Apparently he wasn't the only one as the undead necromancers stopped their attacks on Azora Tower and looked searchingly at their surroundings.

Though Theocritus originally hailed from Dalaran, he found an opportunity to move to Stormwind when it was rebuilding itself from the second war. He had been here for almost twenty years now and knew the ley lines intimately. His mage senses were telling him something was going on with the ley lines in Elwynn, something enormous. No sooner had he finished his thoughts when a loud blast of golden light exploded, it was so bright it nearly blinded him.

"What is the matter, Theo?" Dawn Brightstar, a pretty young mage of Azora Tower asked as she too sensed the explosion of magic. She had been getting more mana healing drinks from a level lower in the mage tower when she felt the burst of arcane energies. Looking at her friend she noticed he was staring in shock at the scene before him. What did the undeads do?

Theocritus could not believe his eyes, where once were a few dozen undead and mostly empty land with a road was now no more. Now it was filled with soldiers, Stormwind soldiers! Why there must be thousands of them down there! Moreover, they appeared to be fighting a small force of Orcs that looked just as disoriented as they were. The Horde was here too?! Did someone cast a massive teleportation spells? Only the strongest mage could do that and even then, not to this extent.

"OY!" He shouted in his magically enhanced voice. "The Scourge's here! Be careful!"

To Dawn and Theocritus's surprise, the ghouls and skeleton soldiers of the necromancer stupidly charged the superior force. A blonde haired soldier saw the undead and shouted a few quick commands. The Stormwind troops fell upon the undead with ease while the smaller blonde beheaded the necromancer for good measure.

Still a force of this size, they need to rush to aid Stormwind City! "Hurry to Stormwind City!" Theocritus called down to the army. He saw the blonde girl look in the direction of the city where the floating Necropolis hung ominously. He heard her bark some orders and with quick order, they killed the Orc forces that were with them and then rode in Stormwind City's direction.

Dawn Brightstar looked at the army curiously. Where did they come from? Whatever the case it was good they returned in time, but she could have sworn that the blonde girl that gave the order was familiar. Incredibly so, in fact she kind of looked like... no that's impossible. Wasn't it?

++++ Stormwind City +++++

Varian Wrynn, King of Stormwind, looked up into the sky and felt only anger. There hanging above his city was a Scourge Necropolis. "RING the BELL!" He growled savagely as he took Shaylamane, his elven rune sword and marched out of the castle's keep. Clad in blue personalized armor, he cut an imposing figure. Once before he had worn his dark hair long around his face much like Arthas, now he had it tied up in a ponytail, a holdover from his gladiator days.

At first, the bell from Stormwind Keep rung only to be answered by the bells from the barracks in the Old District, then the barracks in the Dwarven District. Soon the entire city was filled with the sound of bells tolling.

It was the call to arms, for civilians to hide in their homes, and for the Stormwind Guards to mobilize. Of course they could all see what had been going on, there above them was a Scourge Fortress. Many who hailed from Lordaeron trembled at the sight as they remembered the horror that poured forth from those damned walls.

"Varian, stay back, let us handle this!" Highlord Bolvar Fordragon, formerly regent of Stormwind in Varian's absence, pleaded to his friend and King. They had already lost the King once, they could not afford to do so again. He was in his late thirties, a few years older than Varian. He had grown a beard and his hair was a rusty brown color that fell down to his neck. Clad in golden armor and armed with one of Stormwind's shields, he fell in line with his friend.

"The Scourge are attacking MY city and you expect me to sit on a throne and wait for them to come to me?" Varian growled, offended by the very notion as he stalked down the battlement of his keep.

"Father! Where are you going?" Prince Anduin Wrynn, Crown Prince of Stormwind came running from behind his father looking fearfully up at the sky. Unlike his father who was tall, broad shouldered, muscular and exuded a powerful presence with his every step, Anduin was said to take after his mother, not only in personality but also in looks. With a softer figure, blond hair that contrasted his father's black, and a distinct lack of aggression. He was his father's opposite in many ways.

"Go back to the Keep, Anduin!" Varian bellowed at his son and saw the boy flinch. Did the boy not understand that they were under attack? He had lost his wife and he'd die before he'd lose his son. Looking to his son's bodyguard he gave them a hard look. "Guard him with your life!"

"Yes, Your Majesty!" The Prince's bodyguard, head of the Royal Guards, placed his hand on the young princeling's shoulder to usher him back inside the castle's keep.

Bolvar sighed and turned around to face the boy that was like a son to him. The relationship between father and son had been strained despite the happy reunion. Varian had been kidnapped for two years and in that two years, the bond and trust between the two had all but disappeared. The boy had been forced to grow in absence of his father and when his father returned, it was not the same kind caring man that he once was. He was more savage and prone to fits of violence if provoked by those he considered his enemy. Furthermore, Varian was now ferociously protective of his son, almost to the point of obsession. His demeanor, once easy going, was now hard as stone. His imprisonment and Lady Prestor's magic had changed him somehow.

Of course, that was not all that had changed. Where he once was cunning and diplomatic to a fault, he no longer would tolerate any slight again him. It was rumored that when he fought as a gladiator for the Orcs he had to do things that he still refused to talk about. Rumor has it that Varian was often compared to one of the Orc wolf deities. That he would bare his fangs at his enemies and only those in his pack would be protected.

Bolvar had to chuckle at that, a Wolf King on the Lion's throne. It was as if the only thing that would sate his friend now was to bathe in the blood of his enemy. But that was another matter for another time, first he needed to reassure Anduin who looked hurt by his father's harsh language.

"Anduin, your father needs to have his wits about him if he is to defend this city. We know you are brave and capable, but if he has to worry about your safety, he might make a mistake. You wouldn't want that now would you?" Bolvar said softly to the young Prince. He made sure to make eye contact with the boy's blue eyes so that he'd know how serious the situation was for everyone.

"I... I do, be safe Bolvar and... protect my father," Anduin replied with a downcast expression before turning back around and heading back to the keep, his guards flanking either side of him.

Varian had looked on at the scene and balled his fist. How was it that Bolvar could talk to his son easier than he could? How could they have drifted so far apart in such a short amount of time? Where had he failed as a father? Feeling Bolvar next to his side he bowed his head in acknowledgment. "I... thank you, friend, for... Anduin."

Bolvar simply shook his head and gave his friend an encouraging smile. "Don't worry, your return is recent. You two will soon be thick as thieves!" He assured his friend.

It was then a frantic looking Stormwind footman approached the two with fearful eyes. "My King! The Lich King, He's making his way to the harbor!"

"What?!" Varian shouted at the news. No one had seen Arthas for over six years!

It was then a booming voice spoke, its origin seemingly nowhere and everywhere at once.

"**Hear me people of Stormwind, you are dead, you built upon homes on top of the bones of a dead kingdom. I come to claim the walking corpses in this castle to add to my own forces, resist with all your might for it shall avail you **_**naught**_**!**"

Bolvar's eyes widened at the deep booming voice that had washed over the city. Arthas, the Lich King, was here!

Varian was the first to recover, his eyes taking on a more feral look, with pure hatred and anger radiating off of him at the thought of his once best friend and humanity's greatest traitor. Throwing his head to the sky, he shouted back. "ARTHAS! YOU DARE COME HERE TO MY KINGDOM!"

"**Varian, My old friend. Come, your death awaits!**"

"To the harbor!" Varian shouted as he and his knights rode hard for the harbor. Just as he passed the Dwarven District, he saw the hardy folk fighting undead ghouls and abominations plaguing their homes. Turning his forces around, he looked at the people of Ironforge, ready to help the Dwarves and Gnomes battle the undead. Before he could, a Dwarf that was standing on top of an anvil saw him and signaled for him to stop.

"Go get Arthas Your Majesty, we got the beasties here!" Therum Deepforge shouted, who had seen the Human King turning to go to their aide. He gave the King a quick salute before turning back to smash a ghoul's head in. "Come at me if ya dare!"

Varian nodded, seeing the situation was well in hand continued to ride. Unfortunately the ghouls weren't the only things that were attacking his city. Frost wryms and gargoyles also made themselves known, flying around swooping down onto his soldiers. The riflemen and the mages around the city were working hard to bring the creatures down while Gnomish flying machines and the gryphon riders battled for air superiority.

Taking Shaylamane in one hand, Varian and his knights struck down all the undead in their way. Passing by the cathedral, Varian saw that Archbishop Benedictus was burning any ghouls that dared set foot in his district with great ease.

"Back, you foul deceased. In the name of the Light, I shall burn you where you stand!" Benedictus shouted as he and his army of priests rained holy light down upon the ghouls and abominations.

Varian decided to clear the undead on the canal street's side to lighten the attacking force on the Cathedral forces. It was when he turned the corner that he saw Arthas. The Lich King, clad in black armor and armed with his rune blade, Frostmourne, was killing any defenders that were brave enough to challenge him.

"ARTHAS!" Varian shouted savagely as he saw yet another one of his soldiers struck down, their souls stolen by the cursed blade. Jumping from his horse he leaped high into the air and brought Shaylamane down at Arthas' head.

The Lich King however sensed the attack and brought up his rune-blade to parry the King of Stormwind's attack. With a growl, he used his great strength and swept Varian aside with a strike and was pleased to see his old friend's blade blocking his strike. It wouldn't be fun if Varian died too quickly.

"**Hello, brother**," Arthas said from behind his helm. His eyes glowing icy blue, giving him an inhuman aura.

"You are no brother of mine, traitor!" Varian shouted savagely. At one point in time Arthas and he had been as close as brothers. The two practically grew up together under King Terenas' watchful eyes. After having lost his father, King Terenas took on the role and taught him how to be King. That his own son would slay his father made Varian's blood boil even hotter. There was a special place in hell reserved for Arthas, of that Varian was sure.

"**I would say you wound me, but I care not anymore**," Arthas dismissed as he pointed his blade at the King of Stormwind.

Growling, Varian jumped once more at Arthas and struck at the Lich King with heavy handed strikes. Unfortunately, the Lich King was more then up to the task as he countered Varian's attacks swiftly and struck back just as strong. Varian felt himself hard pressed to keep the blade from cutting him. Jaina once told him a cut from Frostmourne would infect any mortal body with a rotting curse, and anyone killed by the demonic rune-blade would be forever damned as the blade took the souls of all it killed.

"**As skilled as ever, but I have grown more powerful since then**!" Arthas taunted as he held his sword high and empowered himself with such an aura that it forced Varian to retreat. Swirling around him were blue tendrils of arcane energy forming a protective barrier.

"But at what cost!" Varian raged as he brought Shaylamane up in a guarding position. Bolvar had just arrived and was channeling the Light in such a way that he was being bathed in its power.

"**Nothing that I couldn't pay for**," Arthas laughed as he saw the Paladin next to his old friend. Another of the Light's followers seeking its vaunted protection. He had to laugh at the weakness that was the Light. He would show them all just how weak they were before him.

Varian and Bolvar looked at one another and were about to attack Arthas when a battle horn sounded from behind them. Turning around they saw a contingent of knights, some with armor that they haven't seen in ages, ride directly for Arthas. At its head was a female figure that looked familiar, very familiar.

The blonde figure leaped from her horse, just like Varian, and struck at Arthas with a heavy downward swing. Unlike when Varian and Arthas blades met, however, there was a high pitched sound from Frostmourne. It was as if a thousand voices screamed in agony. The sound disturbed all save the blonde girl who had pushed herself off of Arthas's blade and closed in to strike at him again.

"**Who dares interrupt me?**" Arthas demanded, looking at the newly arrived girl. The girl looked familiar. In fact she looked like...

"I dare!" the blonde replied boldly. Her golden sword ready to strike at a moment's notice.

Cold blue eyes met emerald ones as the two fighters stared at one another.

"**You!**" Arthas growled out angrily, his eyes full of hatred. How DARE she show herself here! "**What are **_**you **_**doing here!?**"

His anger fueled his power as he fired a necrotic burst at the girl from Frostmourne. It struck her true and slammed her against a nearby wall. To his surprise, the blonde got up and brushed off the attack as she charged once more to engage the Lich King. The two began a deadly dance of blades, quicker than most could perceive as the sound of swords striking one another rang loudly.

Arthas could not believe it, whatever blade that bitch had found was actually making him feel a bit uneasy. It was holy and alien to him at the same time, yet he could sense its tangible power in her grip. According to Kel Thuzad, the bitch should have a formidable demonic blade not a holy one!

"**You found a new blade**," Arthas growled even as he upped his attack, trying to overpower the girl in front of him. Yet he knew that she possessed great strength. All he needed to do was hit her once and then her soul would be his. "**Yet it will not save you from me, False King**!"

The blonde had been furiously clashing with Arthas when she heard his comment. Confusion colored her face briefly before she flipped away from his last strike and pulled out of range. "False King?" she asked looking directly at the Lich King.

"**How dare you**!" Arthas roared savagely as he held the blade up high, an evil aura emanating from the blade. "**How dare you try to steal my throne from me!? I will cut out your treacherous conniving tongue, whore!**"

Arthas had not intended to do this, but the object of his hatred was right before him. When he had woken up, Kel Thuzad had told him about her and what she had done. It was unforgivable!

The Lich King had only intended to taunt his old friend, to challenge both the Horde and Alliance to attack him if they dared. He had not intended to show his true might as he wanted to have fun with the mortals. However, the False King before him was an eyesore he would not tolerate; he would destroy her completely. Stretching his blade out, he radiated a deep sickening blue aura calling upon the full might of Frostmourne. He could hear the souls in his blade cry out in horror as they were used to empower him by a hundred fold.

"**I will torment your soul for all eternity!**" Arthas promised the blonde girl. Gripping the blade with two hands, he swung the fully empowered Frostmourne with all his might at the blonde bitch. To his surprise, the blonde bitch gave a defiant roar and met his blade with her own. How foolish!

The two blades met each other as the blue blade struck diagonally downward while the golden blade struck diagonally upward. There was a loud clang as the blonde pushed against Frostmourne and Frostmourne pushed back. Yet the evil in Frostmourne must have been sickeningly over powering as cracks started to form along the golden blade's length.

The blonde had a hard expression as she eyed her blade, the weakness along its length. Arthas saw this and pushed harder, anticipating the moment he would take her soul for his own amusement.

"**You're **_**mine**_!" Arthras roared as he pushed the holy blade back. That was when something unexpected happened that he could not have forseen.

The blonde broke away swiftly, and let the full might of Frostmourne embedded itself into the stone street of Stormwind. Looking up, Arthas saw as the blonde looked around her, his Scourge forces were battling the defenders of Stormwind, from their canals to their very skys. He would take this bitch's head today, he vowed.

The blonde appeared to whisper something to her golden blade, almost as if speaking to an old friend, before she turned her attention back to him. Raising her sword she shouted something that was in a language he had never heard before.

"Caledfwlch Amddiffyn!" The blonde roared, and stabbed the holy sword into the stone street before her.

One moment everything was fine, his victory was assured as the chaotic energy in his blade was more than enough to break the girl's sword. The next, the girl stabbed her sword into the ground. He could feel as if some sort of power was transferred from the sword into the street before everything lighted up. Pure golden holy light swept across the city from whatever was done. He could feel the death of his ground forces along with the frost wryms that had flown too low. Worse, the light had injured him badly, as if it was trying to purify him.

Quickly recovering, Arthas saw the blonde bitch stand before him, her broken blade in hand, staring him down. She knew, she knew, that whatever she did had hurt him, that it would force him to retreat. He would do so for now.

"**To me**!" Arthas shouted as one of his frost wryms swooped down and flew him back to the Necropolis. He glared hatefully at the False King and saw that the energy that was released had seeped into Stormwind city itself turning it into hallowed ground.

After reaching the bottom of the Necropolis, he glared down at the blonde girl who was glaring up at him. How he hated that girl. "**Come and find me in Northrend, Mordred, **_**False King **_**of Lordaeron!**" he challenged loudly for the entire city to hear. A few moments later, Naxxramas was summoned back to Northrend by Kel Thuzad. Had he stayed a moment longer, he would have seen the shock on the blonde's face at his proclamation.

Varian and Bolvar saw the Necropolis slowly faze out of existence, as if being summoned somewhere else. Varian himself could not believe that Mordred Dathrohan-Pendragon, self-proclaimed King of Lordaeron, was here in Stormwind. While some nobles did not acknowledge her claim, the Alliance did after what she had done for them.

"I thank you for coming to my city aide King Mordred," Varian said in a neutral voice, his battle lust slowly shimmering down now that the threat was over. Now it was time for diplomacy. "Had we known you were in the area, we would have given you a better welcome."

"What are you doing here, Majesty? Did the Lich King also attack your territory?" Bolvar Fordragon asked as he looked at the King of the North, who appeared to be staring at the broken sword in her hand. Whatever she did, the sword appeared to have lost its luster.

The blonde blinked and looked up sharply at the two men as if they were talking Orcish. Suddenly she looked behind them, the newly built harbor had arrested her attention.

"Lady Mordred?" Bolvar asked as stepped aside to get out of her way. He noticed there was real confusion on her face at seeing the harbor. He could not tell if she was impressed or not.

"Impressive isn't it? It was truly an Alliance effort to build it," Varian proudly pointed out as he stood next to the King of the north. He then looked at her mode of dress and smirked, he had met her several times before, during his trips to what was now called Pendragon's Holdings. They had discussed various topics, mostly matters of the state, but there were times they would talk about her magnificent sister as well.

From what Varian could gather, Mordred was of two minds regarding her late sister. On one hand, she appeared to worship her half-sister and placed her on a pedestal so high, he did not think any real mortal could fulfill her expectations. On the other, she hated being compared to her sister, a hard feat given how much she looked like the deceased Lioness of Stormwind. In fact, her dislike at the comparison irked her so much that she had taken to wearing red instead of her sister's blue. She also made herself as intimidating as possible, wearing Lordaeronian armor with the double horned helm, a stark contrast to her sister helmet-less appearance. Still seeing Mordred dressed up like her sister was quite a treat and while it brought back some painful memories of Stormwind's loss. It would not do if he did not at least tweak her nose about it. "You know, I did not think you would ever willingly dress up like your sister," he joked.

"Ah, that's right!" Bolvar exclaimed as he scratched his beard. He had wondered why King Mordred's mode of dress was so familiar. Now he remembered. "It looks just like the one Lady Arturia Pendragon wore."

The blonde looked as if to respond when a man dressed in Brotherhood armor approached the monarch of the north.

"Grand Marshal!" A brotherhood dressed knight said as he rode up to the smaller blond girl giving the two men before him a curt nod. "The city is secure, and whatever the golden light was, it healed the men while killing the undead."

"Grand Marshal?" Bolvar asked in confusion blinking at the black armored knight. That design was old, very old. Also, weren't they taking the joke a bit far? "Don't you mean Her Majesty King Mordred?"

"Who's King Mordred?" The knight dressed in brotherhood armor, said in confusion before turning his attention back to the small blonde. "I am reporting to Grand Marshal Arturia Pendragon, I have never heard of this King you speak of."

Bolvar and Varian stared at one another incredulously before turning to look at the blonde next to them with confused eyes. While Mordred had never been as stern as her sister and more playful in private. To actually get her men to play along and call her Grand Marshal was an affront to Stormwind.

"This better not be some sick joke you devised, Mordred!" Varian growled harshly but restrained himself from continuing his tirade when the King of the north looked at him oddly. Green familiar eyes looked at him and for a moment he was but a young teen again in Stormwind before the fall, looking up to a figure that was larger than life.

"Knight, does the city look different to you?" the blonde asked of the knight clad in Brotherhood armor.

It was then that Varian and Bolvar took a real hard look at the forces the blonde brought with her. Mordred's forces were dressed like Stormwind Knights, but not just any Stormwind Knights, the knights from before the fall. Next to them were perfect replicas of the Brotherhood armor. Gul'dan had raised the corpses of the Brotherhood Knights and turned them into Deathknights for the Horde. The Silver Hand knights of Lordaeron had hunted them all down, destroying the perverted creations wherever they found them. Such dark magics tainted most of the armor of the Brotherhood, and the smiths who had designed them were long dead. To have such a large amount of the armor before them was an oddity. Stormwind would have heard if such a large force had been riding around, pretending to be Brotherhood knights.

The knight looked around the city as the blonde requested and blinked as it startled. Quickly looking back to his commanding officer, he nodded.

The blonde had been in deep thought for a moment before she recovered and asked a question that made the situation even stranger. Looking at the King of Stormwind and Bolvar Fordragon she asked. "Who are you two?"

The two men looked at each other, but unsure of what to make of this, why would Mordred go to such length?

It was Bolvar, who stepped forward first. "This is his majesty King Varian Wrynn of Stormwind," he said slowly, never taking his eyes off of the blonde. "And I am Highlord Bolvar Fordragon."

The small blonde looked as if someone had punched her in her gut. Her eyes immediately went from Bolvar's face to that of Varian as if trying to place them, to judge if they were lying. Then she uttered words that would change everything. "Young Prince Varian? Knight Bolvar?" she asked softly.

The two men was stunned by the question. There had been only one person that had ever addressed them in that way, with such familiarity, despite the years that have passed.

Highlord Bolvar Fordragon looked at the figure he never thought he'd see again. From the way she carried herself, down to the aura she now exuded, impossible as it may have seemed, this was Arturia Pendragon! The day her death was announced, had been a sad day for the Fordragon household. His sister, his ever strong sister, cried. Something he had never witness her doing in all his life. He fondly recalled how Mara had tried numerous time to help him court Lady Arturia, but to no avail. Now here she was again, and she radiated the same magnificent aura he remembered from so long ago.

King Varian Wrynn was speechless as he had looked at the girl who had been his friend during his childhood. The one person that never hid anything from him due to his age. How was it possible she was here in front of him? Everyone had said the Lioness died! How had she survived, looking almost exactly as he remembered? How? Looking around he had to make sure this was not some hoax by Arthas. After all his former friend was known to have raised the dead. However, the girl in front of him appeared to be very much alive. Still, there was a way to confirm it, something that was just between a child and his best friend.

"Tell me, if you are Lady Arturia," Varian said hesitantly before looking at the small blond with hard eyes. "You gave me a single gift years ago when my grandfather died, what was it?"

The blonde tilted her head slightly at the question before nodding. "It was a carved wooden figurine of a lion, you named it Arthur," she answered while still studying their faces. The young prince, who had been saddened by his grandfather's death, was cheered up slightly by her gift, despite its childish nature. He had shyly asked if she thought Arthur was a good name to which she only smiled and ruffled his hair before nodding in approval. That had not been too long ago for her.

"It... It really is you..." Varian whispered as he felt weak in the knees. After all this time, how had she returned to them? "We were told you were all killed..."

"You are certain this is her?" Bolvar stared at his King. He too, wanted to believe that it really was the Lioness returned.

"It is, I never really told anyone about 'Arthur' save Anduin," Varian replied as he looked at the blonde before him and fought the urge to rush up to her and hug her. She was as magnificent as he remembered. Mordred may look like her sister, but only Lady Arturia could command any immediate surroundings, no matter who was there.

"Can you tell us how you got here?" Bolvar asked in awe. The Lioness of Stormwind had returned! Then again it wasn't that odd, the heroes of the expedition to Draenor had turned up alive after a twenty year absence.

"We had report of Orcs coming at us from three different directions. I rode out with a small force of twenty-five thousand men with the intention of destroying them before they could link up," Lady Arturia explained patiently. "We wiped out the first group with ease due to catching them unaware, and we were in the middle of engaging the second group when four Bronze Dragons attacked us. I killed three of them but the last one did something. The next thing I knew, we were here."

Before Bolvar or Varian could ask any more questions, one of Lady Arturia's soldiers shouted in alarm before the entire battle group got into a defensive stance.

"What in the Light's name?" One of the Brotherhood dressed knight said as he saw several dwarves and night elves arrived on the scene ready for battle. "To arms!"

Lady Arturia saw the new comers and held her weapon defensively only to remember it was only little more than a glorified hilt now. "Give me a weapon!" She commanded to the closest knight. The knight threw her his great sword.

Varian and Bolvar had been confused momentarily before they realized that if Lady Arturia was from their past, then she did not know about their new allies! "WAIT!" Varian shouted as the men had gotten into battle formation confusing their Night Elven and Dwarven allies.

"Is... Is that a Dwarf?" One of the men asked in genuine surprised as he pointed at a bushy bearded armor Dwarf close to him.

The Dwarf in question did not take too kindly to the tone and gave the knight a flat look before asking sarcastically. "Is that a Human?! Oh my mum be so proud that I can tell da difference between a Human and a Gnome!"

Behind the Dwarf, a Gnome snickered at the knight's offended look.

"Elune belore King Varian," a tall purple skinned Night Elf said bowing to the human king. "My people assembled as soon as we could."

"My thanks, ambassador," Varian said with a nod before he saw the Lioness looking at the other races in fascination. He had grown up with new races around, she had not. "Lady Arturia, the world you knew has changed dramatically. I will try to explain this to you as quickly as possible and afterward I will answer any questions you might still have. Is that acceptable?"

Nodding, Lady Arturia Pendragon agreed. "I will refrain from interrupting, please be concise," she ordered. Varian had to smile at her tone, it was just as he remembered. At least Mordred had been diplomatic, Lady Arturia never cared, regardless of what rank you were. And yet he found himself obeying.

Varian looked up at the sky and closed his eyes to order his thoughts. What he had to tell her was something he did not look forward to but she deserved to know. They all did. After steeling himself, he opened his crystal blue eyes and locked them with Lady Arturia's own emeralds ones. He then began to recount history as he knew it. "As you know we had been at war with the Orcs when you were... taken away. It has been twenty two years since you went missing."

There were low mutters of disbelief from the old knights, but Arturia only nodded.

"There is no easy way to say this... we lost the war," Varian said as he saw the knights behind Lady Arturia stunned into silence. Only the blonde was not affected and nodded for him to continue.

"The war that you fought in is now widely known as the First War," Varian explained. He had gotten over his grief years ago, but to the knights here before him it was fresh news. Lady Arturia, however, remained just as impassive as ever, judging him despite her smaller stature. "We lost our country, our kingdom, and my father King Llane was assassinated during the final days."

There was audible gasp from the knights who could not believe their beloved king had died in such a manner. Then of course there was the defeat by the Orcish Horde. However, Arturia raised her fist and silenced them. Seeing the crowd had quieted down, King Varian nodded as he continued.

"With the loss of my father, we fled North, to Lordaeron, even as the Orcs came in even greater numbers making anyone capable of fighting stay behind to hold out for as long as possible so that we may escape," Varian recalled the final days and their panicked flight. "The people that arrived on Lordaeron's shores were old men, women, and children. Of our mighty army only a few hundred made it onto the final ships."

Bolvar bowed his head, he had been one of the few survivors, ordered to retreat by his sister, may she rest in peace. He looked at his friend, it could not be easy for Varian to recount this tale. To his surprise, he was not the only one who thought so, as he saw the Lioness of Stormwind give the taller man a soft look before gesturing for him to continue.

Varian had been surprised by the look but remembered that she used to give the same look to him from time to time when she visited. Surprisingly, the small gesture settled his emotional turmoil he experienced as he recounted the final days of Stormwind. Clearing his throat he continued his tale.

"Lord Lothar was able to convince King Terenas Menethil, of Lordaeron, to form an Alliance of Nations to battle the Horde threat," Varian continued as he remembered the meeting with the great king. "For the first time since the founding of Arathor, Humanity united to confront a common threat. Together with the Elves, Dwarves, and Gnomes, we formed an Alliance to combat the Orcs. The Orcs, however, having suffered great losses during their war with Stormwind found dark allies of their own. They allied with the Trolls, Goblins, and Dragonkin."

The Night Elves present listened in with interest of the retelling. Those that bothered to study the history of the Eastern Kingdoms had been more than impressed by what the mortals had done. The Orcs had pushed the Night Elves quite hard during their first meeting after all. The Dwarves loved hearing stories and so stood around, even the Gnomes were captivated by Varian. Unnoticed by the other races, the Draenei forces, who had come to King Varian's aide, were also captivated by the tale of how their allies banded together to defeat a threat they had fallen against.

"The Second War, as it came to be known, devastated many kingdoms. All suffered from the invasion. The Horde, despite our own numbers, made great strides into Alliance lands and though it was a near thing, we ended up victorious. However, this was not before Allied Supreme Commander, Lord Lothar died, killed by the Orc Warchief, Doomhammer," Varian sadly told the blonde. He saw Lady Arturia close her eyes while the knights behind her bowed their heads low in mourning.

The Dwarves took off their helmets in respect to the fallen man, while the Draenei and Night Elves remained respectfully silent.

"Thanks to King Terenas's generosity, he helped me reclaim Stormwind back from the Horde remnants. Afterward, people from all over the Alliance migrated here for a chance at a new life. Most of our refugees had opted to stay and serve Lordaeron in Southshore as they had made new lives for themselves." Varian said, thinking of the late Lordaeron King fondly. "There was another invasion but it was pushed back through the Dark Portal. An expeditionary force was sent to Draenor, the Orc home, and there closed the Dark Portal from their side forever. At least we thought so at the time."

The current Alliance members remembered the day the Dark Portal reopened and demons once more flooded the land. Thankfully, brave adventurers had held the line while the rest of the world powers gathered to push the Burning Legion back from whence they came.

"Although we had to fight hard to clear out the Orcs in our lands, Stormwind did recover in time, although not as strong as you would remember it," Varian said, looking at Lady Arturia's expression and saw that she still held an unreadable look. "There was relative peace for over a decade before war once more came to our world."

The Night Elf females present bared their fangs while the Dwarves took on a more somber stance. The Gnomes had a regretful look on their face while the Draenei bowed their head in respectful silence.

"The last war, what is now commonly referred to as the Third War, was a war against the demonic forces known as the Burning Legion," Varian said and saw the knights behind Lady Arturia look at one another. "That war broke the Alliance of Lordaeron and turned the majority of the north population into undead. It also heralded the rise of a new force called the Scourge, ruled by the fallen Prince of Lordaeron, Arthas Menethil."

Exhaling deeply Varian looked at everyone around him. More Night Elves, Dwarves and Gnomes, even some Draenei had appeared to listen to his tale.

"The Third war ended with the Alliance of Lordaeron defeated, the destruction of our High Elven allies' homeland and the near destruction of our new ally, the Night Elves," Varian extended his hand to the Night Elves closest to him who bowed back at being singled out. He saw that Lady Arturia turned her head to look at the Night Elf curiously before turning back.

The invasion brought back bad memories for all the gathered races. For the Dwarves, they felt as if they failed their allies. For the Gnomes, they felt as if they failed the entire Alliance with the release of the Troggs taking them away from the war effort, who knows what could have made the difference against the undead? For the Draenei it was yet another assault by the Legion on an innocent world, and the Night Elves had suffered almost as much as the Human kingdoms, with whole swaths of their great forest now forever tainted by the Burning Legion's fel magics. Whole armies of their Sentinels were killed by the Orcs, then the Burning Legion. They had stood guard for ten thousand years, awaiting the Legion's return and found that they were not ready.

"However, from what was told to me by High Commander Halford Wrymbane, the combined might of the Alliance, Horde, and Night Elves defeated the Burning Legion at Mount Hyjal, deep in Night Elven lands," Varian said and saw Humans of Stormwind, Dwarves, and Gnomes cheer at the victory. "However the Scourge still remained. Not much is known except Arthas came back to Lordaeron to destroy any remnant of organized opposition and proclaimed himself King before he left for Northrend. It has been six years since we have heard from him and today, on the day of your return was when he had shown himself once more."

"A joyous and dark day at the same time," Bolvar said as he looked at the quiet knights of Lady Arturia.

"We need to tell the others before they get here," Lady Arturia stated, before looking at her knights.

"Others?" Varian asked, looking at the other legendary figure of Stormwind.

"Yes, others. I took a small force with me when I saw the floating... fortress over Stormwind, my main force will be arriving within the hour," Lady Arturia revealed as she mounted her warhorse. "I need to tell them what transpired and all that you have told me."

"Main force? How many?" Bolvar asked a bit surprised that this was not all that was with Lady Arturia.

Sweeping her eyes across the crowd Grand Marshal Arturia Pendragon looked at Varian and said. "Two thousand Brotherhood Knights, five thousand Stormwind Knights, two thousand arbalest and ten thousand infantry. As for our support we have several hundred clerics of Northshire and a few dozen conjurers from Karazhan. I didn't bring any siege units with me this time because I needed to move quickly."

Varian, Bolvar, and the surrounding people's eyes widened at the numbers. While Varian commanded more than that, he still only numbered at most one hundred thousand able-bodied soldiers with only half of them being regular while the rest were militia augments. Lady Arturia was commanding one fifth of his total fighting force, half if he just counted his regulars and they were all battle hardened soldiers. Was this a boon to Stormwind or trouble?

"I will return soon," Lady Arturia said as she moved her small force out of the city.

Varian turned to look at Bolvar. "Tell our forces to expect them and let them know who they are," he said softly.

"I can't believe it, two thousand Brotherhood men!" Bolvar exclaimed in awe. The Brotherhood of the Horse was known as the best fighting force in the land that few could match. The Order of the Silver Hand was comprised of all the best knights from all the human kingdoms when it formed. It was done in order to match the Brotherhood's abilities, they even learned magic! Now they were returning, it was then he remembered who else had been with Lady Arturia when she left for her final mission. "By the Light, do you think Sir Lancelot is also alive?"

Varian's eyes widened as he too remembered the famed knight's reputation. "He was with her... it's possible, Stormwind could see the resurrection of its old elite fighting force my friend."

"Aye, but Arthas has attacked, so now we have to prepare for war," Bolvar reminded his King.

Varian nodded somberly. "We will go to Northrend and make Arthas pay for his crimes."

TBC!

AN: First off, for those that have no idea who Arthas and The Lich King is, simply go and youtube "Wrath of the Lich King Opening Cinematic." There's a reason why I named this War of Kings. Now you know ^_^

Time Travel~~~~ Now we know what happened and the real story could begin.

Yes I broke Caliburn, I actually made Saber say it in Welsh, or old Welsh. Pretty much Caliburn Protects. Yes Frostmourne is stronger than Caliburn because Caliburn is a ceremonial blade. As great as the Holy Swords are, they showed they could be broken or corrupted.

As for the Bronze Dragon, yes Chromie survived but everyone else died to Saber ^_^. Flex. So yep I skipped 22 years from when Saber disappeared. The timeline for this is AoC 26 ish, and for WoW Timeline, this was between The Burning Crusade and Warth of the Lich King, expansion. There was an event where Arthas attacked.

As for Mordred. Surprise! Had to keep that under wraps. Shocked?

Stormwind itself is just a shell of it's former self now and I show the new army numbers to reflect it. They even operated and govern differently now.

Pertinent Info:

Timeline! Again!

Age of Chaos

AoC 6: Second Great War begins. An Alliance of Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and Gnomes battle a Horde that now consisted of Orcs, Trolls, Goblins, and enslaved Red Dragons.

AoC 7: War Ends, Horde is broken. Trolls flee into the forests of Lordaeron, Goblins surrender, and the Red Dragons are freed from the Orcs enslavement. The Dark Portal is destroyed by Khadgar.

AoC 8: The Dark Portal is reopened by Nerzhul the Orc Shaman who attacks Stormwind again. A large reactionary force forms, consisting of volunteers. Lead by Turaylon of Lordaeron, Alleria of Quel Thalas, Danath of Stromgrade, Khadgar the Archmage, and Kur'dran of the Wildhammer Dwarves.

The Alliance sends a large Expeditionary force over into Draenor, the Orc home world, closes it and destroys the planet.

AoC 9: High Elves, Gilneas, and Stromgrade want to execute every single Orc. King Terenas denies them their vengeance and instead puts the Orcs in internment camps, hoping to rehabilitate them as productive members of Lordaeronian society.

AoC 10: Quel Thalas, Gilneas, and Stromgrade withdraw their membership from the Alliance over their disagreement.

Ironforge Dwarves, Wildhammer Dwarves, Gnomes of Gnomeragan, Stormwind, and Kul Tiras remain loyal to the Alliance.

Dalaran, the mage city, becomes a neutral city.

AoC 18: Thrall, an Orc raised by a Human, frees his fellow Orcs and creates the New Horde now fueled by Shamanism.

AoC 20: Third Great War begins. Arthas Menthil, Prince of Lordaeron, betrays his people and kills King Terenas to sow chaos throughout their nation.

Lightning strikes by the undead force known as the Scourge cripples the Alliance's response time. The capital of Lordaeron is lost along with Dalaran and Quel Thalas.

A gateway is finally opened for the demonic Burning Legion to enter into Azeroth.

AoC 21: The demons immediately set to killing any and all resistance in Lordaeron before launching an assault on the Night Elves of Kalimdor.

The combined armies of the Alliance remnants lead by Jaina Proudmoore, The New Horde, led by Thrall, and The Night Elves lead by Tyrande defeated Archimonde and his Burning Legion at Mount Hyjal.

AoC 22: Arthas Menthil goes back to Lordaeron to crown himself King, razes any other resistance in Lordaeron, leaves for the north and merges with the rest of the Orc known as Nerzhul to create the Lich King. Becomes dormant after they merged their two souls.

And that's that! Thanks to everyone that left a review, really appreciate it, especially those deep and thoughtful ones. ^_^

As always C+C welcomed, reviews appreciated!


	3. Chapter 2

Warcraft belongs to Blizzard

Fate Stay Night belongs to Typemoon

Warning! This is more of a spin off instead of a direct cross with modern day Fate/ Stay Night.

Special thanks to Cheeser, who had to do a lot more heavy lifting for this chapter then usual due to it's length. Wayfarer who help me set the tone right with FSN lore and finally Xbox, who spit and polish this into the fic that could!

Lioness of Stormwind: War of Kings

Chapter 2

*** Shortly after the Second War, Swamp of Sorrow formerly the Black Morass ***

Alleria rode into the ruins of the Human fortress known as Marshal's Keep. On the battlement walls, she could see armored Elves manning the walls. Several of them glanced her way and nodded in acknowledgment as she passed them.

It was a short while later that she found who she was looking for. In the charred remains of a stone building at the center of the keep, was the Sun Knight banner. At its entrance was Andria and Laraya, two of Gawain's most trusted Lieutenants.

"Greetings, Ranger General. To what do we owe the pleasure?" Andria stepped forward first to halt the pretty, even by Elven standards, girl.

"I need to speak with him," Alleria said shortly, looking at the older Elven beauty.

"Lord Sunseeker... does not wish to be disturbed," Andria hesitantly replied.

"He has been here ever since the war ended," Alleria pointed out and before either Elf could react, she briskly strode inside the heart of the ruined fortress.

"Wait!"

"You're not allowed!"

Alleria ignored their protests as she continued on. As she walked through the stone keep, she was surprised by the lack of artificial lighting, magical or mundane, with only the natural sunlight visible through the cracks in the walls. Using her well trained senses, she followed the most worn path to the second floor to the command room.

If not for her well trained Ranger eyes, she would not have spotted Gawain Sunseeker, staring at the table in front of him, his sword haphazardly to the side. No longer was he in the perfect posture, he slumped against the chair, motionless.

Only a few moments after her arrival, a voice came from the stilled darkness. "What can I do for you, Alleria?"

The voice that sounded from the darkness seemed emotionless. He had always been stern in their interaction, but this was a bit unsettling. Gawain had lost something important during the war, and not even the closest of his knights knew what it was, only that it had something to do with the Human girl, Arturia Pendragon. It was strange because Andria told her that she was certain he had never met the girl. To mourn in such a manner was odd beyond measure. But his knights were loyal to him and where Gawain went, they followed.

Still, when Gawain had learned of the girl's death at the hands of the Orcs, he spared none on his quest for vengeance. He had intended to execute all of the Orc prisoners of war, but was stopped by her ex-lover, Turalyon. For his brutality against the Horde, his allies gave him a nick name to match his actions. The "Blood" Elf they call him.

Good.

This was exactly who she needed. She needed his strength, the Orcs also took her little brother from her, his life cut short by a merciless Forest Troll. She would see them all dead. Gawain and she were of one mind when it came to this. "The Orcs are back, they attacked Stormwind, Dalaran, and Nethergarde," she reported. She was pleased to notice Gawain's change in demeanor at the mention of the Orcs. The heavy depressing atmosphere was gone, and in its place was tangible anger.

"They were beaten back however."

Gawain who had been showing signs of life, halted his progress. This was when Alleria delivered the news that would change both of their fates.

"The Alliance is sending an expedition to the Orc world of Draenor, our objective is to shut down the Dark Portal no matter the cost. More importantly, there would be plenty of Orcs for us to kill. They are mobilizing and asking for volunteers. Would you like to join us?"

Without a word, Gawain stood to his full height, grabbed Galatine, and walked in front of Alleria. His eyes were now hard as he looked at the pretty young Elf.

"We will make them pay."

With those words, Gawain strode past her, his armored footfalls moving toward the entrance leaving, Alleria alone. "Yes... yes we will," she promised in memory of her brother.

**** Now, Goldshire, Lion's Pride Inn ****

Two armored figures could be seen sitting at a table in the small inn, one dressed in grey and blue while the other obsidian black. Before them was a pile of books and various scrolls that had been brought to them. Right now, they could be seen scrutinizing the books for any falsehoods or irregularities but could only conclude that they have been moved forward in time. The war that they fought so recently was over and, if the history tomes was correct, they had also been absent from the two major wars that had occurred afterwards.

"What do you make of this... ma- Highlord," Lancelot had started to say, but quickly corrected himself. The title of Highlord had been posthumously awarded to his liege, but since his liege had returned from the dead, it was now her proper title.

That was garbage as far as Lancelot was concerned.

The only title that fit Arturia was 'High King of Britannia'. It irked him severely that Mordred had carved out her own kingdom to the north, but his King had not yet brought up the topic. She was more intent on helping her soldiers find out more about their families, a task that the new King of Stormwind, Varian Wrynn, had been generous enough to provide assistance for. It had been a hectic month since the two had returned, with their army camped around Goldshire. The reason why they were barred from Stormwind was logical. They were too big of an army to be let inside the city, with them outnumbering the current Stormwind defenders two to one. Stormwind was not as great as it once was, and its army was much smaller.

A compromise was reached and the army made camp around the small town of Goldshire, which had also been a surprise for the troops. Having remembered Goldshire as a small city, it being not much larger than a small town came as quite the shock. There was one inn, one blacksmith with a few hundred houses scattered around. This was no longer a major trade hub, and any signs of the old Goldshire were nowhere to be seen. The Orcish Horde had razed it completely.

Saber poured over the tomes detailing the last three major wars and closed the one in front of her. Based on the reports, it was very brutal. She could have prevented Lothar's death or helped stifle the Orc forces, at least that was what she told herself. What angered her was the Archmage Medivh's deception and traitorous actions. Had he not hindered Stormwind, she was certain they would have been able to push back the Orcish Horde to their Dark Portal, saving Azeroth a lot of grief.

"My Lord?" Lancelot asked, pouring over his family's records. His two brothers dead, his sister widowed. She had remarried to a Lordaeronian noble who died in the 'Third' war. After that her whereabouts became unknown, with pockets of survivors still being found in the ruins of Lordaeron. He hoped to be able to track her down and could tell he was not the only one. Many in the army were now trying to reconnect with their families while others no longer had families to return to.

Saber looked up at her loyal knight and exhaled softly. Unlike Lancelot, she knew where her mother was. Varian had reported that she was well and was currently residing with Mordred, her... daughter in another life, but now her half-sister. Saber found it ironic that she had spawned Mordred with her half-sister, and now that same child was her own half-sister. At first she had hoped that it was not her Mordred, that it was merely a coincidence they shared the same name, but if Lancelot was here then it would stand to reason that Mordred might have found a way here also. "The amount of death and destruction everywhere… our new allies... it's so much to take in…" she said after having read about their shifting Alliance.

Lancelot had only allowed himself a moment to grieve for his family before he locked it away. They were twenty two years gone and there was nothing he could have done about it. Still, some of these new allies were quite interesting and the technological advancements would have made a world of difference against the Orcs. "I find it funny that the High Elves willingly joined the race that tried to wipe them out," he commented with a shake of his head.

"War makes strange bed fellows. Personally, I would have executed this 'Garithos' for gross incompetence had I met him. He divided the Alliance and lost what was left of Lordaeron's organized forces," Saber said darkly. There were key moments she saw that could have turned the tide back in Lordaeron's favor, but all of it was squandered by the incompetence of that man.

"The Alliance is impressive though, aren't they?" Lancelot asked, reading over the races that they were now allied with. Dwarves? He'd never met one and was curious. Gnomes? Apparently they were smaller then Dwarves but their numerous inventions had been invaluable for the Alliance. Then there were the Night Elves who, by all accounts, were quite savage, much like the Saxons if they were forest fighters. They had little mercy for any of their enemies, and their first encounter with the Humans had showed as much. But thus far, they had been staunch allies of the Alliance. Finally, there was the Draenei with their cloven hooves that, if Lancelot did not know better, would have been likened more to a devil from their Bible. Yet, what kind of devil would willingly bathe in the Light and wield it while fighting demons of their own kind. A curious race that one.

"Yes, though the challenges they have faced since make my skin crawl," Saber replied as she looked over the reports on the battle with the Silithid race, aided by those damn Bronze dragons. She wondered if they were the same dragons that had attacked her. Then there was the Legion invasion through the Dark Portal, by the mad Night Elf Illidan. He had not been prepared when the Alliance and Horde stormed his Black Temple before lobbing his head off. There are still ongoing debates about which side actually landed the killing blow.

Lancelot had to nod, it was one thing fighting a giant wolf-spider that was half the size of his horse, but to fight an entire army of the critters that were bigger than a horse? He shuddered at the thought. The very thought made him want to take out Arondight and kill 'em all. He'd rather face down an army of demons then an army of bugs and spiders.

Saber gave her knight a small smirk. He had found spider-kin repulsive and that had not changed, even in his new life. If it could bleed then it could die, and she had applied the philosophy very effectively during her life. It was then she noticed one of her soldiers, Veron, had entered the tavern, her current head-quarters. Varian had been kind enough to pay the inn's owner for its indefinite use.

"Gran- I mean, Highlord Arturia, there's a visitor here to see you," the soldier announced with a disciplined salute before stepping aside to reveal a beautiful woman in her late thirties smiling at Arturia.

Tiffany Lightshade, veteran of the first war, ran up to her dear childhood friend and embraced her tightly. "Arturia, it really is you!" She said, choking through sobs as she continued to hug the smaller girl in her arms not letting go.

"Ti-Tiffany?!" Saber exclaimed wide eyed in surprise. There was no doubt about it, the pretty woman in front of her was her friend. "I thought they said all the Clerics of Northshire were killed!"

Lancelot silently got up from the table and made his way outside to assess the condition of the army. Of course, giving the two women some privacy didn't hurt. Sometimes it helped just to have someone to talk to, and right now, they were no longer soldiers, they were all brothers and sisters lost in time. Taking one last look at the two embracing women, he left quietly, making sure to order Veron not to let anyone interrupt the two women.

Saber closed her eyes and savored the embrace of her friend. From what was known about the first war, all the Clerics of Northshire had been brutally killed. So how did Tiffany survive? Reaching up with her armored hand, she gently pat her older friend's back. Her actions elicited a sobbing chuckle from the mature woman as she broke apart to look at her, as if trying to etch the details of her face into memory.

For a few moments, Tiffany Lightshade took in her friend's features and compared it with the girl she knew and found that it was the exact same girl. Her friend HAD returned. Even her adorable confused look was the same! It really was Arturia Pendragon! "I had been struck by a Warlock's curse that devoured my body from the inside, causing me to go into a coma for the duration of the First War. As a result, I was out for the duration of the war. Your mother cared for me in my comatose state and took me with her when the Exodus began. After several years, I was able to purge the curse from my body and when I finally woke up, I was in the Dathrohan household. Indebted to your mother, I stayed at her side to serve her. When I found out you were dead, I vowed never to be so helpless again and joined the order of the Silver Hand to learn how to fight. Though I am not as good as most of the Silver Hand, I still had a high affinity for the healing spells and now I am in armor instead of robes. "

Saber had noticed her friend was in armor and pushed her back to take a good look at it. It was similar to a robe, but the armor was red and gold with loose plating in front of her robe. A sword was at her side and a shield on her back. Scaredy-cat Tiffany learned how to fight?! The future truly did hold wonders! "Perhaps we should duel to see how good you are with that sword and shield!" she said playfully to her friend.

Tiffany eyes widened before she shook her head furiously and waved her hands. "No no no! I'm not much for dueling, I much rather be in the back, healing our forces. I like the armor for added protection," she said quickly and saw the small smile on her friends face.

She had to smile at her friend's sentiment. Saber had to admit, her friend made wearing armor look very fashionable. "As much as I would love to catch up, my army still needs me. Varian is helping as much as possible, but a lot of the records were lost," She said apologetically. It was then that her friend smiled at her mischievously.

"Do you think I have been idle these past few years?" Tiffany put her hands on her hip in a playful, haughty manner. "After I completed my Paladin Training, I was assigned to Lord Dathrohan's forces. There, your mother and the former Lady Barrington began to catalog the lineage of everyone who had survived from Stormwind. It took many years, but our list contains a comprehensive list of all the Stormwind refugees who had fled to Lordaeron. It was for us to remember where we came from and honor those that had fallen."

Saber eyes widened, a record like that would be welcome indeed!

"I see you've been awestruck by our genius!" Tiffany smirked. "And the clever little Gnomes had built a printing press that is, even now, churning out such books. It should be enough for an army to read I'd dare say. Oh and we are already passing out the books, I brought a few thousand with me. Did I mention those Gnomes were clever little creatures? Handy to have around too."

"We?" Saber saw Tiffany gave that familiar knowing smile she wore when she had gossip that she couldn't wait to spill.

"Surely you did not think I would come alone," Tiffany said smiling before pointing outside.

Saber quickly walked out of the inn and was greeted by the sight of her soldiers lining up in front of wagons. Books were being passed out by men clad in gray armor with a red tabard over their shoulders to her people. On their chest was an 'L' shape she attributed to Lordaeron. Mordred's forces here?! It was then she saw another contingent of Crimson Knights, escorting a large, luxurious carriage. Her soldiers respectfully made way for the elite-looking knights before the carriage pulled up right in front of her. No sooner had the carriage stopped did a woman with gray hair leap from it and embrace her fiercely.

"Arturia! My dear lovely Arturia!" Igraine Dathrohan-Pendragon embraced her long-lost daughter. A daughter she'd thought dead for over two decades.

"Mother?" Saber asked in a stunned voice, before seeing another figure emerge from the carriage. The woman was also familiar, black tresses fell around her head in pretty waves and soft blue eyes looking fondly at the scene before her. The woman smiled at Arturia before turning her attention to Lancelot and ran toward him at full speed. She could see Lancelot was stunned to see his sister alive and well.

"My dear, Arturia," Igraine murmured, as she continued to embrace Arturia for fear that if she were to let her go, her daughter would disappear again.

Saber did not know what to feel. On one hand, she realized she had lost years with her mother, but on the other, it had not been that long since she had last seen her. She also noticed that the crimson armored knights were looking at her with something akin to amazement. Taking off her plated gauntlets, she gently embraced her mother and rested her face in the crook of the woman's neck. "It's alright, Mother. I have returned," she murmured softly.

In the distance, Lancelot could be seen hugging his sister protectively as the two begin to talk softly about family matters.

After a few minutes, Igraine pulled away but still kept her hand on her daughter's shoulders. "You still look the same," she marveled, even as she dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. Her daughter was alive!

"You look... different," Saber replied. It was true. Her mother now possessed a noblewoman's air about her and though her hair was gray, she was still a beauty and there was not even a wrinkle on her face yet. Maybe it was the blood line?

"So tell me, where have you been? What have you been doing for all these years?" Igraine asked as she pulled her daughter into the inn to catch up.

"Umm mother," Saber said as she followed the woman inside. "To you I have been missing for twenty two years. But to me, only a few weeks have passed since I rode out from Stormwind to battle the Orcs. Nothing happened to me during the intervening years."

Igraine eyes widened at her daughter's statement. She had assumed that her daughter had been missing like the Expeditionary Force in Outland, but what happened to her daughter was much worse. She did not get to age or live in those twenty two missing years and was simply plucked from twenty two years ago and placed in the present. No wonder her daughter had looked the same while her second daughter had grown.

"I'm... I'm sorry, I didn't know," She said, sadly looking downcast.

Saber placed her hands on her mother's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You have nothing to be sorry for. What happened, happened. I must, however, thank you and Lady Barrington for supplying my men with the lineage books. They will help them get the closure they need," she said gratefully.

"It's Mace now," Igraine corrected her daughter. "Gwendolyn has not been a Barrington in over twenty years. She married into the Mace family."

"I see," Saber said. "I guess I need to get a lineage book to see what else has changed, but first I want to ask you something."

"Yes love?" Igraine said as she sat down and motioned for her daughter to do the same.

"You... remarried. Were you... happy?" Saber asked softly. Looking at her mother, she saw there was a pained expression on the older woman's face.

"Arturia, I want you to know that not a day goes by when I do not think of Athan in some way, I loved your father very much," Igraine looked at her daughter and noted that she had read the willful girl correctly. "However, when Saidan found me I was just one of the many refugees from Stormwind. During the time he trained with Tirion, Uther, Gavinrad, and Turalyon to become a Paladin in Hillsbrad was when we met. Saidan was a stern man but fair, and before I knew it, he asked me to wed him. No one could ever replace your father, but I was very happy with him. He was a good man, much like your father, and I miss them both."

Saber nodded but saw the pained expression on her mother face. She had heard from Varian on what Saidan Dathrohan had become, but to find out that he was never truly evil was reassuring. "I am sorry if I brought up any unpleasant memories... I heard about what happened to him," she said contritely as she placed her hands over her mother's.

Igraine closed her eyes and sighed sadly. "What he had become, what had taken over his body, I do not consider that Saidan. That is why I am forever grateful to your sister for putting him out of his misery. He was very devoted to the Holy Light and for him to be possessed in such a manner must have been unbearable. I will remember what he was in life, not what he became."

Saber nodded at her mother's declaration and decided that Dathrohan was a man worthy of her mother. Now came the question at the forefront of her mind. "So... why did you name my sister Mordred?" She asked her mother. She saw the older woman took on a far off look before a soft smile adorned her lips.

"Because it reminded me of... you," Igraine explained and noticed Arturia puzzled expression. "You probably didn't realize but when you were a small child, you would sometime speak out while asleep. Sometime your face would furrow as if having a nightmare. Other times you would just make growling sounds as if angry. Often you would mumble the name Mordred and Sheero. When I gave birth to your sister, staring in her green eyes, so much like yours, and her little tuft of blond hair, I decided Mordred fit her, in honor of you."

Her mother's explanation left Saber a bit stunned. She used to sleep talk as a child? Why did no one tell her? Sheero? Did she mean Shiro? Suddenly she blushed in embarrassment.

Igraine saw her daughter blush and found the sight endearing. She was completely opposite that of Mordred in that respect. Mordred were more flighty, the girl laughed and smiled easily but could be dangerous if provoked. Arturia was always in danger of being provoked, as if she always needed to hold herself a certain way to garner respect. Yet when you catch her off guard, her blushing face made her look adorable!

Saber blushed some more as her mother hugged her while gushing about how adorable she was being. "M-mo-mother, please!" she said in an embarrassed tone. Ducking her head low she weaved out of her mother's embrace. Seeing her mother's amused smirke she had to wonder if she ever said anything else. "Was Mordred and Sheero all I ever said in my sleep?"

"Hmmm," Igraine tapped her finger to her cheek, before her eyes lighted up at a memory. "Well when you were two, you would mewl out the word 'cally Burrrrrrr' a lot. Or give out what sounded like orders when you were drowsy. So adorable!" she gushed again.

Saber hid her red face in her hands ans wished for another dragon to come and take her away. How embarrassing!

"A mother lives to embarrass her children, get used to it!" Igraine added with a smile. She savored her daughter's flustered disposition like fine wine. The girl was too serious for her own good sometimes, but with the world they lived in, they should enjoy life when they could. She could be a bit more like Mordred.

Recovering from her ordeal, Saber looked once more at her mother. "So how long will you be staying?" she asked softly.

"Mordred told me she could spare Taelen for a few weeks before she had need of him at her side. Why? Would you go meet your sister then?" Igraine looked hopefully to her daughter.

"I... I'm not sure..." Saber answered honestly. She saw the disappointed look in her mother's face and hurriedly explained herself. "It's just that displaced or no, I still have a duty to Stormwind and its people. More importantly, I have a duty to my soldiers."

Igraine sighed in resignation. When Arturia said word like 'duty' and 'obligation', there was no deterring her from her course of action. "Promise you'll come to Pendragon's Holding first chance you get?"

"Pendragon's Holding?" Saber asked curiously.

"Yes, your sister took the name Pendragon in honor of you when she crowned herself King, as the name Dathrohan had been... tainted," Igraine explained and saw the look of surprise on her daughter's face. "Oh your sister worships the very ground you walk on. She would always ask about you, what you were like as a child and such. I even believe she molded herself into a warrior that you would be proud of."

Once more the day today had been full of surprises. Didn't Mordred despise her? Maybe her former daughter named her territory after the Pendragon name to spite her. "And what is Pendragon's Holding?"

"It was known as the Eastern Plaguelands before your sister worked together with the druids of the Cenarion Circle and the paladins of the Silver Hand to heal the land. Before that, it was known as Darrowmere Forest," Igraine finished. She herself had been sickened by what the land had become, but Mordred had risen up and cleared the Scourge forces there, even bringing down the Necropolis that was over Stratholme!

Saber looked down at the map on the table and traced located the location of which Mordred had taken. Finding it, she saw where it was once marked on the map as the Eastern Plaguelands and was impressed that such a huge swath of land was in her sister's hand.

Afterwards, mother and daughter reminisced on old times while Igraine told her daughter of her new life and how Mordred was growing up. She was doted upon by everyone and had her father wrapped around her fingers before she turned five. Their conversation continued for quite some time, but was interrupted eventually by a courier from Stormwind.

"Lady Dathrohan-Pendragon and Lady Arturia, King Varian wishes to extend an invitation to you two for tonight's dinner in Stormwind's Keep," the well-groomed courier relayed.

"Why of course!" Igraine said right away but saw her daughter made no move to give her reply. "Arturia?"

"I will not be joining you tonight," Saber looked at the courier who did not at all look shocked.

"King Varian had told me you would reject the offer but to ask anyway," the courier said. He then turned to Igraine. "If we are to make it in time, we should leave now."

"Of course," Igraine agreed before looking back at her daughter. "Why aren't you coming?" she asked quietly out of earshot of the courier.

"My men are still out here, confused and uncertain of their future. I could not, in good conscience, go and dine with royalty when there are things that need to be done," Saber replied to her mother, her expression unyielding. "It is the right thing to do."

"No wonder your men love you," Igraine sighed softly. She then cupped her hand to her daughter's cheek and smiled. "You can take their worries upon your shoulders, but just remember that others will always be here to help shoulder them as well."

"Send the King my regards won't you, Mother?" Saber said politely and saw her mother nod. She walked her mother back out of the inn and noticed that the sun would set soon.

"Oh, yes, I do have something for you,"Igraine told her daughter and looked at the head of her body guards. "Taelen, could you give me the letter from Mordred please," she prompted.

A tall handsome muscular man with brown hair, broke away from the front of the Crimson Knights, dismounted, and attended the Lady of House Dathrohan-Pendragon.

"Yes, milady," Commander Taelen Fordring of the Lordaeron Royal Guard answered as two more Crimson Knights arrived and handed him an intricate looking case. Taking the case in hand, he bent down on one knee and offerd the case to his King's sister with his head bowed low. "By order of our King, I hereby deliver this letter to you, Lady Arturia Pendragon."

Saber saw her mother look expectantly at her before she took the jeweled case from Taelen's hand. "Thank you, Sir Knight," she dismissed and noted that he obeyed without question. She was then hugged once more by her mother before being joined a moment later by Gwendolyn, Lancelot's sister.

"Arturia, it is good to see you," the dark haired beauty of the De Luc family said before she embraced the smaller blonde and whispered softly for the blonde's ears alone. "Thank you for bringing my brother back to me, Arturia. I will never forget this, call upon me if you ever need anything."

With that said the taller dark haired girl smiled one last time at Arturia before waving to her brother with a promise to return. Soon after, the contingent of Crimson Knights left town escorted by the soldiers from Stormwind City.

Tiffany showed up a moment later and hugged Arturia after the Lordaeron caravan had left. "I have to go back to Stormwind and get more books. We'll catch up more tomorrow if you don't mind?" she asked hoping her friend would not be too busy to entertain her.

"Of course not," Saber answered immediately. A second later she found herself embraced by her friend.

"Tomorrow then," Tiffany promised before she mounted a magnificent warhorse and rode for Stormwind.

Lancelot watched the procession fade from view and turned around to see the soldiers already looking through the family registry to see who had survived the war. He could see some soldiers were already silent after reading certain passages in the books while others were grinning, indicating to him who had received good news and who had not. He had been floored when his sister showed up but had been as happy as she was. They had talked at length about their brothers. Gwen told him that she had made peace with their deaths, but for Lancelot the last he had seen of them they had been alive and well. Gwen had reassured him that their brothers would have wanted Lancelot to move on and not be stuck in the past. It would take time but he knew he would heal eventually. Walking back to the inn, he noticed his King staring at a jeweled encrusted box in her hand.

"Ma- Highlord?" he asked, looking pointedly at the box.

Saber looked from the box back up to Lancelot and said. "It's contains a letter from Mordred."

Lancelot growled at the name of the blood traitor who had torn down everything his King had worked for, the Knight of Treachery. "You think it's that same Mordred?" he asked for confirmation.

"I had hoped that it was coincidence," Saber said softly before opening the box to reveal a rolled up parchment. Handing the box to Lancelot, she unfurled the parchment and saw that it was written in Latin, not common. That all but confirmed that it was HER Mordred. "But it looks to be the one and the same."

"He will die," Lancelot promised darkly.

"You will not harm... her." Saber said sternly and saw the surprised look on her knight's face. "We were brought to this world for another chance. The rebellion that happened is a responsibility for I and I alone."

"He- SHE was your son- daughter and she killed you!" Lancelot whispered harshly, but was taken aback by the hard look on his King face.

"What she did, she did for her own reasons. It matters not what happened, and if there is ANY to take issue with her it would be I and I alone. Understood?" Saber said, locking her green eyes with Lancelot's black ones. As always, her knight backed down and bowed.

"As you command, Your Majesty," Lancelot said in defeat. It was true only his King could judge the traitor. No one else had the right to do so before his King.

Satisfied, Saber unfurled the letter and read it.

_Dear Father or should I say Sister?_

_I tell you now, Father-Mother-Sister of mine, it feels odd writing this letter to you. After all, the last time I saw you alive and in the flesh, you were not long for the world. I hated you, you who would deny me my birthright. It was not until your killing blow, when you explained to me your reasoning as to why I was not given my birthright, that I knew complete defeat._

_I still do not feel that I was wrong in asking for my kingship, my inheritance. After all, am I not of your blood? Did I not follow your ideals of knighthood to the letter? Why then did you deny me the crown? Why did you deny... me? Had I been born before you, I would have tried to draw Caliburn in this world. I was certain that I would have been worthy of the blade. I had died believing thus._

_As I lay dying, reflecting on my life, I saw your body floating up to the heavens. I prayed to God to let me follow you, wherever it was you were going. Though I still hate you, I love and respect you even more._

_Imagine my surprise when I found myself born on this world. My paternal father of this world was a good man, but as good as he was, he was not like you. He was flawed, too pious and too righteous. Unfortunately, his will did not match his strength. He'd rather battle with the 'Holy Light' and 'Righteousness' on his side._

_That was why it came as no surprise to me that he was possessed by a demon. He was weak-willed, and the weak get eaten by the strong. You were strong, you destroyed the weak. I seek to emulate you by making myself the strongest out there in the land. I think I have made a good start thus far. Also, you might want to know that Clarent followed me to this world but I was not surprised. After all, Caliburn had followed you to this world, why not Clarent Blood Arthur? I find it quite ironic that the blade that killed you was also the one I used to strike down my birth father._

_I believe I might have a knack for patricide._

_I will say, I like our birth mother. She is nice and warm, a far cry from Morgana's harsh, loving care. In a way, being born as your sister, sharing the same mother, made me feel closer to you. When I learned how you were killed by the Orcs I vowed to wipe them out. That is why there can never be peace between me and the Horde. They killed you, I would slaughter them in kind._

_However, first I have to take care of my little undead problem, a problem that I could not solve alone. The Lordaeronians, were a broken people. The Royal line have betrayed them, their Prince turned traitor. They were a disorganized, scattered people. If ever there was a chance to prove my right to rule, to show you even if you were dead that I would have made a good King. This was it. I did what you would have done. I took a broken people and forged them into something better. I would like to think I emulated you in a manner that you would be proud of, and then I crowed myself King. The one thing that was denied me in Britannia, I claimed here in Lordaeron._

…_._

_How did you do it, Father? How could you stand being King with all these people nattering and trying to curry favor with you? I am surprised you did not just kill them all and be done with it. Yet, you didn't, so I could not do any less. I put up with the nobles that flocked to my banner. I had never realized what you had to content with on the throne. I now long for days when I simply rode the battlefield at your side. How ironic to have gained so much and want so little. Father, you were the greatest King I have ever witnessed, and being yours, I will always follow in your footsteps._

_Though I detest it, I believe I might have a knack for politics. I wonder if you ever had to content with it during your rule. Probably not, your sheer presence demanded that they do as they were told. I wish I had inherited that trait of yours._

_It came as no surprise to me that you gained a reputation during the short time you were active in Stormwind. What did surprise me was that people spoke of your great beauty, often comparing me to you. That is why I prefer it here in Lordaeron where you are not as well known. I had to live in your shadow for one lifetime, no need for another. Though, I must thank you for the good looks. Initially, I hated being called a pretty girl, but the love on Mother's face when she cared for me. She made me proud of what I was, and I find I quite enjoy being able to live as a woman this time around. Men act like such fools for a pretty face._

_But I digress. When I learned that you had died, I had been devastated. So many things I wanted to tell you, so many things I wanted to say. I would never get the chance. Now here you are, alive, and I find myself writing anything and everything. I wish I could go there myself to see you with my own two eyes, but there has been a recent increase in Scourge activity. I heard what you did to the traitor King. Well done. Although I mourn the loss of Caliburn, we both know that Excalibur has always been your true blade, and I look forward to see you on the fields wielding the Sword of Promised Victory once more._

_Once again, I digress. I have studied history, in particular Stormwind's history. The Stormwind that exists today is not the same Stormwind you know. The King has given up his power to the local city states in the surrounding lands and only rules Stormwind City itself along with the house of nobles. The townships around Stormwind must defend themselves with their home grown militia. Only when he needed soldiers, would he call upon them. I believe the Stormwind of your time had soldiers by the tens of thousands. Times are different now. I even crowned myself King and no one batted an eye! I offer you, Father, Sister, a spot for you and your army within Lordaeron's ranks. I would offer my throne to you father, but such a pittance is not worthy of your name. You are no mere king, Father, you are the High King. The King above all Kings. Barring that, I hope to see you one day in my lands. I want us to meet face to face and bury any animosity between us. Or perhaps maybe we'll meet on the battlefield again as enemies if you do not like what I have created._

_Awaiting the day of your Judgment,_

_Mordred Pendragon_

Saber blinked after she read the letter from her child in another lifetime. She did not know what to make it of it. On one hand, it seemed like Mordred was challenging her to a duel, but on the other, she seemed to want to make amends. Was Mordred unstable? Did she need to be put down again? Maybe she would need to go up North and find out for sure. To talk so casually of killing her own father...

Seeing Lancelot's curious expression, Arturia handed the letter over to him to get his thoughts on it.

"He's insane!" Lancelot declared, skimming over the letter. In his mind, Mordred would always be a man and Arthur's son.

"I am not sure," Saber looked at letter once more before tossing it in the fireplace. "I do not think she is insane but she is rather... flippant about everything."

Lancelot swore that if Mordred tried to harm his King again, he was a dead man, or woman in this case. Last time, Mordred had used him to incite a rebellion. Now with Lancelot on Arturia's side, he would protect his King from harm.

+++++ The Next Day +++++

Tiffany Lightshade had arrived once more with Lordaeron's Crimson Knights to distribute more books about lineage to everyone. King Varian Wrynn had commissioned copies of the lineage books for the displaced soldiers of Stormwind. While the House of Nobles did not want to spend a dime, being the majority were from Lordaeron, Varian had used his own personal fortune to pay for it. It was just one more reason why the King was so well loved by the people.

Unfortunately, Lady Dathrohan-Pendragon, and Lady Mace were unable to get away from the House of Nobles who wanted to get in a good word with the new King of Lordaeron, Mordred. As such, the women found themselves attending balls, dinners and various other functions. Tiffany felt a bit bad about leaving the two women to their fate, but at least Taelen, who was a very capable Paladin, was there with them. If anyone stepped out of line, he would show them the error of their ways.

"Greetings, Arturia!" Tiffany said happily as she dismounted from her warhorse easily. Next to her, still looking as delicious as ever, was Sir Lancelot. While she still loved Gawain, it had been a long time since she had been with a man and Sir Lancelot was sending out all the right signals.

"Lady Lightshade you are simply looking...dare I say, divine," Lancelot praised as he gently took Tiffany's hands and brushed his lips on the back of her palm, making her blush. A moment later, he had to drop the pretty woman's hand as his King made her displeasure known. It still amazed him that he felt her blow through his plated armor. Smiling weakly he looked at his King. "And still as off limits as ever."

"Arturia!" Tiffany turned to her friend in protest. "I am a grown woman now! I can look after myself."

Saber simply gave her friend a flat look which began a staring contest. A contest that ended in the taller woman's defeat.

"Damn it," Tiffany muttered angrily. After all these years, all her experiences, and all the battles she'd been in, she still lost to Arturia in a stare down. "At least I lasted a few seconds longer," she grumbled.

"The Lioness of Stormwind is indeed a ferocious creature," Lancelot joked but then shut his mouth when he saw his King's gaze directed at him.

Any further conversation was interrupted when there was a commotion by the guards near the entrance of Goldshire. Saber was curious about the commotion, it wasn't an alarm and the mood seemed to be more subdued, as if curiosity was tangible in the air.

"I wonder what's going on?" Lancelot saw some of the soldiers trying to take a good look at a group of new comers. It was their companion who identified the reason for the disturbance.

"Oh!" Tiffany said as she realized why there was a commotion at the town entrance. "High Elves! I wonder what they are doing here?"

"High Elves?" Saber asked as she made her way to the town's Northern entrance. She saw a Night Elf but not a High Elf. Weren't they all supposed to be traitors?

"Make way for the Highlord!" one of the infantrymen shouted as he saw his commanding officer making her way over.

Immediately, the crowd parted for their commander and revealed a group of at least two dozen high elves, the majority of which were women who looked at the soldiers curiously. There were some men dressed in elegant blue and gold armor that appeared to be at the head of the procession.

"Greetings," Saber said as she looked at the group. She had to admit, the women were beautiful and the men were handsome. No wonder they captivated her soldiers. "Pardon my men, they have never seen Blood Elves before."

"High Elves," a female Elf in elegant armor corrected. She turned to look at the leader of her group, a tall Elf with short brown hair and noticed the expression on his face.

Saber made ready to defend herself when one of the male Elves suddenly rushed over to her. She could not help but feel that the Elf looked familiar somehow which was impossible as she never knew any Elf. "Greetings?"

"Arturia Pendragon of Camelot," the male elf said formally as he drew his sword and stabbed it in front of the smaller blonde before kneeling on one knee. "I have waited an eternity for you. Please accept me into your service once more."

There was a moment of silence from all of those present as the handsome Elf bowed before Highlord Arturia Pendragon. It was she who reacted first.

"Gawain?!" Saber exclaimed in mild shock, having finally recognized the male Elf's features. His sword, of course, was Excalibur Galatine, a version of her own Excalibur. She should have recognized it immediately. Was everyone from her past here?!

"CLEAR THE AREA NOW!" Lancelot bellowed loudly, startling the soldiers, but they retreated from the scene, leaving only their commander, Lancelot, Tiffany, and the High Elves. Unfortunately, someone else saw him.

"LANCELOT!" Gawain roared as he got up to his feet. Grabbing Galatine from the dirt, he charged the traitorous knight.

The time displaced army of Stormwind turned around when they heard the roar and saw the Elf charging their commander.

Sensing Gawain's attack, Lancelot drew Arondight just in time before Galatine could cut him in two and found himself face to face with a handsome elven face contorted by a feral snarl.

"Still quick on the draw I see!" Lancelot taunted before he head-butted the Elf, seeing this his soldiers were drawing their swords and about to join him. He bellowed once more. "I SAID CLEAR THE AREA! NOW! THAT IS AN ORDER!"

The soldiers stopped in their tracks. A command was a command. They reluctantly made to back off and carried out Lancelot order.

Unfortunately, due to his slight distraction with his men, Lancelot found himself suddenly falling onto his back a moment later from a leg sweep. Quickly he rolled to the right as he sensed Gawain's sword which embedded in his previous spot a moment later.

"You will pay for all the sins you have committed, traitor!" Gawain shouted and was once more frustratingly parried by Lancelot. He should have known that even with an Elf's natural reflexes, Lancelot would not fall easily. He was Arthur's first knight after all.

Quickly the two started to fight viciously.

The High Elves shouted something in their musical Elven language, but Gawain seemed to have ignored them in favor of battling Lancelot. Tiffany also thought this was a misunderstanding, that Lancelot was confusing High Elves for Blood Elves and shouted the explanation.

Only Arturia truly knew the reason why her two best knights were trying to kill one another. It would not do.

The High Elf, Liaran, who had served with Gawain Sunseeker faithfully, could never imagine that they would encounter a Human that could fight so evenly with the Sun Knight. It was amazing to say the least, but there must be some mistake for Gawain to attack without provocation.

Tired of her two knights fighting, Saber opened her mouth and commanded. "ENOUGH! CEASE THIS AT ONCE!"

To all's amazement, the reaction from the two were instantaneous, as they stopped their fighting and backed away from each other before taking on a relaxed stance.

"Gawain, Lancelot! With me!" Saber ordered giving the two a hard look before she walked into the empty inn.

The moment the trio entered the inn, Arturia turned and looked at the two men before her. One Elven, one Human, but both reincarnations of her knights of the round table. Looking first at Gawain, she stood up and locked eyes with him. Searching his eyes, she recognized her once loyal knight in it.

"Gawain," Saber said and saw the Elf stand tall, awaiting her judgment. "You are truly my Gawain of the Round Table?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Gawain answered without hesitation. "Although in this life I am known as Gawain Sunseeker."

"Lancelot," Saber addressed her knight. The knight in question stood at attention his eyes looking directly before him in perfect military fashion. He was waiting to be chewed out. "Leave us."

The order surprised the knight as he stared at his King. "But-!"

"I said leave us," Saber ordered and saw her first knight bow before retreating out of the inn. She then walked around the now Elven Gawain and took in his features before she asked him a single question. "How?"

"Majesty?" Gawain asked, seeing that his King was inspecting him and hoped he passed whatever criteria she had to be in her service again.

"How is it that you were born an Elf?" Saber asked in wonder as she reached out to touch his pointed ears. To her surprise, the former Human knight stood still, letting her touch them.

"I do not know," Gawain answered as he kept his eyes still straight. "I only know that the Lady of the Lake sent me here with Bedivere, only saying we would no longer be as we once were."

"Why?" Saber asked. The Lady of the Lake was powerful, she might have sent her old knights but why would her knights want to follow her? "Your service to me was done with my death. Why follow me here?"

Gawain turned his full attention onto his King and looked at her full of devotion. "I cannot speak for Bedivere, only for myself. I failed you my king, I questioned your orders and in turn brought ruin to our kingdom. All we worked for crashed because of my pride. I desperately wished to turn back time, to obey you without question. When you died and were spirited away to another world, I asked to be sent with you to serve you as I should have, to not fail you, my King."

Saber digested the solemn answer from her formerly Human knight and sighed. Her round table was made up of broken men, led by a broken King. Yet... her time as Saber, with Shiro, healed her. Made her accept who she was, and she was no longer broken, having been forged anew. It was now her duty to heal her men. "Gawain, the fall of my kingdom could be attributed to many reasons. But we now have a new life here. I do not want reprisals over past grudges. I want us all to move on," she said softly.

"What are you saying, my King?" Gawain asked, looking at his lord in confusion.

"I am saying that you should let go of your grudge against Lancelot and live your life the way you want to. I do not need blind devotion. I need knights that would stand by me and not blindly follow my orders," Saber said and saw the shocked look on Gawain face. "I am saying I want the Gawain from the Knight of the Round table back, not a devoted servant. After all, if I were to charge to my destruction, you would just charge in with me? That is FOOLISH and I do not need such a foolhardy knight at my side!"

Gawain bowed his head at his King's chastisement and had to agree it made sense. Yet his plan to devote himself completely without question had seemed so perfect at the time and for the past hundred years he had held onto that ideal. Now within the span of a few minutes, it had been dispelled. "Then tell me, how can I serve you?" he asked softly. To bask in his King's presence again was his greatest wish.

"You know how," Saber said looking directly at Gawain glowing eyes. "You have served me that way once before, when you were able to tell right from wrong. I want that knight by my side, not a lap dog."

Visibly affected by his King's words, Gawain Sunseeker flinched and bowed his head low. "It has been a long time since I have seen that knight that you praised my King. I do not know if I can find him," he said softly. To his surprise, he felt a soft hand on his shoulders.

"I am not asking you to find him right away, but if you could hold onto your ideals all this time, then in time, your old self and new self would become one, and you'll become whole," Saber told her most loyal knight.

Gawain fell to his knees and bowed low before his King. "Then, may I serve you once again, my King? Can I be one of your knights once again?" he asked hopefully.

"Hand me your sword Gawain," Saber ordered softly.

Bowing, Gawain unsheathed his sword and held it out to his King.

"Gawain Sunseeker," Saber said softly holding Galatine in her hand. "Do you swear to uphold the code of chivalry and conduct yourself in a manner befitting a knight of Camelot?"

"I do, Your Majesty," Gawain answered reverently.

"Do you still wish to fight by my side? I am no longer the King you knew. You can find many Kings to serve in this new world, all would be happy to have you," Saber said softly.

Gawain looked up and stared directly into his King's eyes. "It matters not that you be a King or peasant, so long as I get to serve you and be by your side I would be content. Please bind me to your service," he replied.

"Then Gawain, with my authority as King of Camelot, I, Arturia Pendragon, hereby take you into my service until my death or upon your release," Saber's voice had taken on a different tone. A tone not used since she inducted her knights into the round table. Gently she touched both of Gawain's shoulders with Galatine. "Rise, Sir Gawain Sunseeker, and take your blade."

Gawain looked up and saw his King holding out Galatine in the flat of her hands to him. Reverently, he took the sword and sheathed it on his back. He then stood up, the feeling of being knighted making him feel elated as never before in all his years. Truly Arthur, or Arturia, was the King he was meant to serve, no matter what world.

"Now about the issue with you and Sir Lancelot," Saber said looking at her new knight and saw him grimace. "Will it be causing me problems?"

"I read about him when I was traveling down here with Supreme Allied Commander Lothar," Gawain said as he looked at his King's slightly shocked expression. "He is much like the Lancelot of old before the... scandal," he finished diplomatically.

"You fought in the Second War?" Saber asked of her new knight.

"Yes, Your Majesty. I have searched for you every ten years. The last time I went out was because of a Human nation's destruction," Gawain explained before his expression darkened. "Then I learned about your death at their hands and could not forgive them. I wanted to see them all dead to avenge you, my King. So intent was I on ending them that I volunteered to go through the Dark Portal and was happy to have destroy their world as payment for them killing you."

Saber slowly nodded. First Mordred, now Gawain. How many other people did her death affect? "Well I am glad you are here. It is great to see a familiar face, even if it looks slightly different," she said with a small smile and saw the surprised look on her knight's face. He acted as if he never saw her smile before. Upon further reflection, maybe he never did.

"I may look different but I am still the same knight on the inside," Gawain replied seriously.

"Well, it is the inside that counts, not one's outer appearance," Saber replied as she started to walk out, only to sense another presence had joined them.

"Reveal Yourself!" Saber ordered sharply as she got into a defensive stance, her Grand Marshal Claymore at the ready.

Gawain, startled by his King's reaction, focused on the new presence that infiltrated into the inn and also got into a defensive stance with Galatine.

"I hope that still holds true, Your Majesty," a musical female voice said to Arturia. She was tall and clad in a long hood that covered her features.

"You know me?" Saber asked dangerously. This was a private conversation. Whoever this was, she was really tall, almost as tall as an Orc, if not taller. Though her body was slimmer.

The figure disrobed and revealed a scantily clad figure that showed off her ample breasts, long athletic legs, beautiful facial features and long, dark blue hair.

"Kaldorei," Gawain said, seeing the beautiful Night Elf in their midst.

"You called me 'Majesty', you know me," Saber said before taking in the beautiful features of the woman before her. "Guinevere?"

The Night Elf laughed melodiously before shaking her head. "No, Your Majesty, but similar enough I guess."

Saber tilted her head slightly but before she could ask a question the figure knelt down similarly to a knight before his King.

"Your loyal knight, Bedivere Lakesong, at your service, Your Majesty," Bedivere said softly and smiled at the slack jawed expressions on both her King's and Gawain's faces. The two hard asses of the Knights of the Round had been stunned into silence. It was almost worth the long wait. "I am here to bring you to Excalibur."

TBC...

An: WOOOT, What? I don't pussy foot around, the plot keeps on moving. Thank you for all the reviews both good and bad. :D I appreciate it!

Yes, Tiffany Rerolled into a Holy Spec Paladin. A wink to the fact that Paladins were originally created by the Clerics of Stormwind books but was retconed to a Lordaeronian thing.

Mordred was a bit of a challenge to do but I always had this planned in mind. One one hand what is done and said about her is one thing, on another she now also have the years of peace and a loving mother for the past 20 years. She cannot be the same Mordred that is in Fate /App, she have grown, developed. She also now taken the over the Scarlets and people have flocked to her banner. IN other world, she sort of got her wish fulfilled. I had to make the logical conclusion, with the Wow factor inside on how that woudl change her view on kingship and ruling. All her life, she only knew on purpose, to be king, Morgana groomed her for such a role, yet, there is no grooming. There's love, there acceptance, and most of all, no Arthur present. I hope I got it right :)

Also, yes that Illidan line was on purpose :D I try to put easter eggs everywhere and then the cheat sheet down here. I have been in correspondence with some of my readers, as they were very enthusiastic about the story. ^_^ Thanks, I quite enjoy our little chats. I am also happy to say that most of them are still guessing as to what is going on. For those that left a review, thank you ^_^ , it can only help!

Pertinent Info!

Saidan Dathrohan - Real WoW character! One of the Four Lordaeronian Paladins to be trained. Was in charge of Stratholme before Arthas and WoW adventurers. Became High Crusader of the Scarlet Crusade to kill the undead. Was taken over by a demon.

Tirion Fordring - Real WoW Character. One of the original four paladins. Was exiled for helping an Orc.

Turalyon - Real WoW character. One of the original four paladins, was a priest, Alleria's lover and became Leader of the Alliance Army. Is still missing with Alleria after going through the Dark Portal.

Uther Lightbringer - Real WoW character. One of the original four paladins. Raised Arthas like a son, was killed by Arthas the Death Knight.

Alleria - Real WoW character. Ranger General of the High Elves

Taelen Fordring - Real WoW character. Was killed to spur Tirion Fordring into action.

Scarlet Crusade - Remnants of the Lordaeron Army. Sizable force that was used as the Demon-Possessed Saidan's pawns. You spent most of your WoW time killing them in the early levels, end game, and STILL killing them.

As always C+C welcome, reviews appreciated.

**Another Crack fun by my Friend UNSPACY000:**

"Mordred!" Varian said to the blue clad blonde, "I have never been so glad to see your pert ass!"

She returned a withering glare that caused Bolvar to shy behind his liege and Varian to wince before she said, "I'm not Mordred."

"Ha, pull the other one, Mordred, it's got bells," Varian said in an attempt to lighten the mood and get the blonde's glare to die down. "Seriously though, what are you doing here?"

"I'm saving your asses," she said before she waved down a knight. "Minion! To me!"

"What do you need Boss?" the knight asked the petite blonde woman.

"Boss? Don't you mean 'your majesty Mordred?'" Varian asked the knight.

"No, I mean Boss," the knight said. "Who the fuck is Mordred?"

"She is," Varian said as he pointed at the sole woman in the group.

"No, she's Arturia Pendragon, Really Long Title Leader and the Lioness of Stormwind," the knight said before he leaned to the side and gave Varian a hard look. "Under what rock in the middle of bumfuck nowhere have you been hiding under? You probably don't know we're at war with orcs either."

The blonde woman tapped her foot as she looked at the knight before he straightened and said, "Zombies are clear, Boss."

"Minion," the woman said slowly, "Does the harbor look different to you?"

"Huh, I thought the size discrepancy was because we were far away. Damn, is that tiny," the knight said before his eyebrows shot up. "Where the fuck is the civilian evacuation fleet that was being constructed?"

"Lady Pendragon, is that really you?" Varian asked.

The woman's glare returned to Varian, and she said, "You, me, practice swords at high noon. I will teach you manners then."

"By the Light, it really is her," Bolvar said as he looked upon Saber with wide eyes in a hushed voice.


	4. Chapter 3

Warcraft belongs to Blizzard

Fate Stay Night belongs to Typemoon

Warning! This is more of a spin off instead of a direct cross with modern day Fate/ Stay Night.

Special thanks, as always, to Cheeser who endless effort yeild this fic, Wayfarer who continuously keep on pointing out my simplest of mistake and make this flow better and of course xbox who stayed up in the wee hours of the morning to get this done. Beastly all of them!

Lioness of Stormwind: War of Kings

Chapter 3

**** Lordaeron, Pendragon's Holdings, Stratholme ****

Once known as Darrowmere Forest of Lordaeron, Pendragon's Holdings sat as a bastion for all living Lordaeronian citizens. Surprisingly enough, its name was derived from a southern heroine.

Many of the children after the second war heard tales of the Lioness of Stormwind told as a fairytale, while romanticized retellings of her final stand had been targeted towards adults. There were even trashy romance novels of her and the famous Knight Lancelot. A knight who was said to be too handsome and untamable for any woman, save the Lioness herself. It was quite a popular tale among teen girls and their mothers of Lordaeron.

Among the army, Arturia was considered popular for other reasons. Regular footman viewed her as a good luck charm, while others were enthralled by her skills. Generals from the north had studied her strategies used against the Orcs to great effect. It had even been published and archived in former Capital City.

For a time, tales of the first and second war dazzled a generation of growing children. Of course, that was before the Scourge came and drowned everything under a tide of darkness. The remaining survivors of Lordaeron were beset on all side by undead trying to turn them into one of their ghouls or slaves to the Lich King. They had looked to their leaders, but those in charge had failed them.

With their King dead and their Prince turned traitor, the people of Lordaeron began to cling onto those with power like a lifeline. At first, they flocked to Jaina Proudmoore, daughter of renowned Admiral Daelin Proudmoore, hero of the second war. But she wanted them to abandon their homes and leave for uncertain lands. Some followed her, but most remained. Next, they turned to the Order of the Silver Hand, the powerful organization of holy warriors wielding the Light, believing the paladins could stem the undead tide. It was not only until months later that the people learned the fate of the refugees that went with Silver Hand. The people that fled with the paladins all came back as undead, more zombies for the Scourge war machines.

In desperation, the people of Lordaeron even embraced High Marshal Garithos, a low class Baron. He had inherited his father's army, who had been furthest away when the Scourge had attacked. His greatest achievement was being able to secure an Alliance with the Blood Elves. For a time, it was like the old Alliance again, with several races united against a common foe. Human, Elves, and Dwarves were working side by side to push the Scourge from their lands. Then darkness had gripped Garithos, turning him against his allies. His allies in turn abandoned him, and what was left of his forces were, without doubt, eaten alive by the Forsaken.

All seemed lost until Saidan Dathrohan with Alexandros Mograine, wielding a powerful weapon named the Ashbringer, ground the Scourge advance to a halt, even taking back large amounts of territory conquered by the Scourge. During this time, a newly joined recruit was spotted on the battlefield alongside her father. The sight of Mordred Dathrohan fighting back the undead under her father's banner gave people something to believe in. It did not matter that her sister had been elevated to a mythical status, here was a girl who was of her blood and who looked exactly like her. Mordred Dathrohan proved to be just like her sister through her victories. Undefeated in battle, the Scarlet Crusade pushed back the Scourge further than ever before.

The people of course was enamored with the beautiful blonde, her engagement to Darion Mograine became the most talked about topics among the survivor. Some remembered that Mordred was initially betrothed to Taelen Fordring, before his family fell into disgrace, ending that engagement. It was curious that Renault was passed over in favor of Darion, but the populace were ecstatic about the upcoming wedding between the beautiful Mordred and the youngest son of the Mograine line. It was to be a symbol of hope and new beginnings for Lordaeron.

Unfortunately, that was when Humanity's curse made itself known. The Ashbringer, Alexandros Mograine, was killed. His legendary blade was corrupted and taken by his youngest son, Darion. It was Renault who tried to take his father's place as the next Grand Marshal of the Scarlet Crusade with High Crusader Saidan Dathrohan's backing. It was a terrible loss, but one that the people tried to move on from by clinging to the strong lineage of Mograine, hoping he could be like his father.

That was when Mordred Dathrohan exposed a conspiracy so heinous it shook the organization to its very core. Somehow, she was able to discern that her father had been corrupted by a demon and that Renault had orchestrated the death of his own father! The inner circle of the Scarlet Crusade had not wanted to believe her accusation but Mordred swiftly beheaded her own Father who then morphed into a demon in front of the council. There she slew the demon where it stood with her blade. Afterward she executed Renault for high treason.

Something like that should have broken the Scarlet Crusade. Shamed beyond belief, the members and people who had been under the Crusader's protections lost all faith. That was when Mordred rallied them. In a display of charisma that captivated the people, she went to every outpost and promised that she would take over and succeed where her father had failed. Together with Taelen Fordring, they exorcised the Scourge presence from Tyr's Hand, then from Hearthenglen, before they struck south and took back the surrounding farmland. That was when the Scourge attacked Light Hope's Chapel, the home base of the separate sect known as the Argent Dawn and the Brotherhood of Light. They had been hopelessly outnumbered by the undead from the beginning as an entire army of Scourge bore down on their position.

It was Mordred, with the Scarlet Crusaders, who came to the aid of the beleaguered Argent Dawn. No one was sure of what happened that day save that Mordred's sword cast a powerful spell that destroyed a massive amount of Scourge while the Scarlet Crusaders and the Light Hope's Chapel defenders held the line against the undead. It was said that an explosion of pure light destroyed the remaining Scourge forces, but the battle had never been in doubt. Mordred Dathrohan had saved the Argent Dawn and repaired the Scarlet Crusade's reputation.

From there as more people flocked to Mordred's banner, she took more land. Higher ranking and older men and women began to follow her. But surprisingly enough, no one minded, and any who had plotted against her found their treachery exposed by her, followed with execution by her own hand. Some began to call her the Lioness of the Scarlet Crusade, but she put a stop to those rumors immediately. Instead Mordred did something that was not only bold but it made people acknowledge her. She crowned herself the Red King of the North. People had initially taken it as a joke, but as her land holdings grew and she weeded out the Scourge methodically from Lordaeron, it morphed into something else completely. Pride.

In a bold move that would forever cement her claim, Mordred promised to retake the city of Stratholme. In exchange, the surviving Order of the Silver Hand that once served Lordaeron would have to ally with her forces for the good of the people. The Silver Hand had been skeptic; the girl was not a paladin, a noble lady yes, and the self-styled King of Lordaeron. Yet she had made to retake Stratholme, something that even the Silver Hand had not been able to do. In a display of power, she transformed her blade and took down the Necropolis that served as a connection to the Scourge. Such might stunned both her forces and the Silver Hand Paladin's alike. Then she began to methodically clear out the Plaguewoods before she forced her way into Stratholme City. By the time she had secured a beachhead in the city, the Silver Hand had been won over by the girl and within the month, Stratholme belonged to Lordaeron once more.

Then in a display of foresight that impressed even the craftiness of politicians, Mordred sent word to Stormwind and requested an audience with the Alliance leaders or their representatives under the name Mordred Pendragon. Mordred knew the Stormwind king would not forget a Pendragon. The reason why the Alliance had not sent aide was because they did not know which faction they should ally with.

The Silver Hand, thus far, was the only one to reap the benefit of the southern King with aid from the Alliance. What was said at the meeting, people could only speculate. When everything was done, however, a contingent of druids, a force of Dwarven craftsmen, Gnome inventors, and High Elves were sent to the Scarlet Crusade to the amazement of the citizens of Lordearon.

The paladins and druids then began the healing of Lordaeron. The paladins first purified and purged the land before the druids healed it, restoring the soil's richness. Within a year, the forest began to look green again, the grass began to grow back, and the sky returned to a more natural hue. The lake near Darrowshire went from a tainted green to a clear blue, the meat of the animals they consumed was no longer foul nor rotten. The land under Mordred's leadership was healing, something that no other leader had been able to do before her. Mordred had kept her promise. In exchange however, she was asked by King Varian Wrynn to leave the Argent Dawn alone at Light Hopes Chapel.

Slowly yet surely, the people of Lordaeron who had been in hiding began to go back to their homeland and they all had Mordred Pendragon to thank for it. It was there that the whole of the north began to see her as a true King, when one might think she was a Queen. However she had explained the difference. A Queen aided the King and the King protected and led the people. As a result, she considered herself a King and the Alliance recognized her as one.

Stratholme was repaired under Gnomish and Dwarven craftsmanship, not yet to its former glory, but it was a far sight better then what it was before. It had been four years since Mordred came into power and her forces have been bolstered by three fold. She no longer even called her forces the Scarlet Crusade, stating that it was too divisive. Instead, she named herself the King of Lordaeron until someone she deemed worthy could take the title from her. The broken people of Lordaeron, who had suffered greatly almost overnight, began to take pride in their country and land again. Their Kings had failed them, but Mordred did not and was even repairing the damage done by their leaders. The people began to believe she was blessed by the Light. When she wanted to rename her territory to Pendragon's Holdings, there was no outcry by the people. The Pendragon name was a good one. Politicians and nobles of all sorts came out of the woodworks then with their own militia forces to join up with Mordred. After all, strength in numbers still held true. Yet Mordred had a keen political sense that rivaled even the slimiest of politician. She always maneuvered them to what she wanted and they only got what she conceded to them. No more, no less.

In a grand gesture that moved people, Mordred made her city, Stratholme, the new capital of Lordaeron and from there, on the Crimson Throne, she sat, reading over the latest correspondences from her forces in Western Lordaeron. She refused to call it the Western Plaguelands.

"Have another five thousand sent to Hearthenglen to defend the druids in the farm lands. Take them from Tyr's hand," Mordred, in full red and gray battle armor, ordered as she looked at the map of her land.

"But that would take away from the force keeping the Argent scum in check," High General Brigitte Abbendis, in her crimson battle armor, said to the blonde girl on the throne.

"Careful now Brigitte," Mordred teased as she locked her green eyes on her pretty brown haired general. "You're hatred is showing. Remember, they are the burden we are to carry to continue to get the aide we all so enjoy."

The long haired, pretty woman opened her mouth, as if to speak out in her defense, but a few seconds later, she sighed. "It is as you say Majesty. I just sometime find it hard to fathom that they are working with the horde within our territory."

"Well, apparently you and I are short sighed and can't see the bigger picture," Mordred mocked with a roll of her eyes before she stood up from her seat to stretch her legs. Immediately, the High General and the Oracle stood up to attention, ready to follow their King if she were to go somewhere. "Well their 'bigger picture' had them scrounging around for food and charity from the people for them to get by, while our small mindedness has healed this land. They want to sit in their little chapel and ramble on and on about unity? Let them. They are too honorable to try and attack us anyway. However, if they so much as step a toe out of line, Tirion Fordring or not, I will end them. To put it in my sister's own words, fuck 'em."

High General Abbendis and Oracle Priest Demetria stared at the pretty blonde girl for the comment.

Mordred sweated a bit under their combined stare. "Okay fine, she'd never say that! But I am sure she thought it!" the King of the North defended.

"Uh huh," Demetria said indulgently as she walked up to their King, to pat her shoulder. "Speaking of your sister... Can you imagine being missing for twenty two years?"

Abbendis looked up sharply at the subject. It had been quite the hot topic among the women in the Crimson Legion. The Lioness of Stormwind had become a heroic figure for women in the military, showing that women could be just as good as men, if not better. In fact, the Lioness had, at one point, been the General of Stormwind's combined armies and was responsible for a great many victories. During Abbendis career as a soldier, she had tried to emulate the woman, and now she served her sister!

"No I can't," Mordred said as rested her chin on her fist. "But I do believe today is the day Taelen should be returning, and if we are lucky, my sister with him."

At the pretty blonde's words, the two women, formerly of the Scarlet Crusade, looked extremely excited by the idea. Before the women could start their discussion however, a Crimson Sentry appeared, snapping a salute at his King.

"Your Majesty, Lady Dathrohan Pendragon, Lady Mace, and Commander Taelen Fordring have returned!" the sentry announced grandly as he stepped aside to reveal a gentle looking older woman, a black haired woman, and Taelen.

"Mother!" Mordred squealed, all decorum tossed out the window as the blonde girl ran to her mother and embraced her affectionately. "You've been gone too long. I missed you!"

Igraine pursed her lips wryly and raised an eyebrow at her daughter. "Are you sure it was me you missed or three weeks of no apple cobbler?" Immediately, Mordred stiffened in her arms.

"Of- of course you, mummy," Mordred answered quickly with a beaming smile, though one could not have helped but notice it was a bit strained.

"Uh-huh. You have not grown so cunning that I can't tell when you are lying," Igraine chided her daughter and saw the girl, the King of a nation, bow her head in defeat. Gently, she threw her daughter a life line. "Be thankful that I am a kind and benevolent mother. I have some freshly picked apples form the McClure farm, home of the sweetest and juiciest apples in the land."

Mordred, King of the North, bane of Arthas, took her royal red sleeves and wiped the drool that was leaking from the corner of her mouth. "You. Are. The. Greatest. Mother. Ever. I'll fight anyone who says otherwise," she promised darkly.

"No need to fight," Igraine said, reaching up to pat her taller daughter on her head. Looking around, she spied the other two girls that had been her daughter's constant companions. "Abby, Demi, you are welcome to have some if you want to."

The two high ranking noble women of Mordred court looked at each other before turning to the Pendragon Matron. "Uh. Yeah!" they replied in unison.

Smiling at the girls who began to crowd around her, she turned to look at the handsome boy that had been her protector for the past two months. "And you Taelen, will you be joining us?" she asked.

Taelen gave his former charge a serious look. "My lady, I would fight through Arthas' Scourge for your special homemade cobbler."

"You are so sweet! So when are you and Mordred getting married again?" Igraine teased the handsome boy and saw him blush while her daughter gave the boy a speculative look.

"M- milady, please," Taelen stammered as the three woman before him giggled at his discomfort. On the sheer atmosphere alone, one would not think this was a King's court.

"What? You did have an engagement when you were younger and you have now acquitted yourself well. Your family is no longer disgraced, why not?" Igraine reasoned as she looked at the boy. It was then she saw Gwendolyn's mischievous expression. The poor boy, he was alone with five women. The male sentries had already made a tactical retreat.

Faking surprise, Gwendolyn dramatically added her thoughts to the young man hazing. "Oh dear, don't tell me you are smitten with Mordred's sister!"

"Wh-what?!" Taelen sputtered as he swung to look at Mordred only to see the girl giving him an unreadable look. His fear then doubled as Mordred's two friends, the High Oracle and High General, flanked her and gave him the same matching unreadable look. He shot Lady Mace a dirty glare before turning back to his King. "I am not smitten with anyone! My duty comes first, Milady, and you know this!"

It was Mordred expression that changed first. "You, dear Taelen, are too easily baited by women," she smirked before continuing. "Speaking of women, in all honesty, how was my sister?"

Taelen breathed a sigh of relief as he was no longer the women's source of amusement. "The last I had seen of her she was well. She did not converse with me, and I handed her the letter as you instructed me to," he reported diligently before he pulled out a small plain looking envelope. "Lady Arturia bade me to deliver this letter to, your highness."

Mordred was surprised by the letter. Truth be told, she had wanted to send a group to intercept Taelen for the letter but she really wanted her father-sister... whatever, she wanted her to know. Taking the envelope, she saw the lion seal of Stormwind on its underside, with Latin script addressing it to her. Opening it, she read its content, not caring to see if her two friends were looking over her shoulder. It was in a written language not of this world.

_To My Sister,_

_I write to you now in response to the letter you had written to me. I must admit, it was quite a surprise to find you here on this world. You, who were of my flesh and blood, now share it with me once more. I find I have a hard time thinking of terms to describe my relationship with you. You are my child, I fathered you. Yet you are now my sister and we, as you stated, have the same mother. That makes us family again. I have heard of your deeds in the North. And I tell you now, I am not surprised to hear you have done well. You have always been skilled, that much I acknowledged, even in our old lives._

_There is much you and I have to discuss and we will when I come back from my journey into Kalimdor. I have decided to take you up on your offer and visit. I will make a three day stop in your territory before going back to Stormwind._

_Arturia Pendragon_

"Mordred?"

The sound of her mother's voice finally snapped the blonde King from her scrutiny of the letter, trying to observe any double meanings, yet knowing her father, she meant what she said. Her father acknowledged her as family! Well, sister... whatever.

"Mordred?" Igraine prompted again. The girl had been staring at the letter in her hand for the past few minutes. Based on the script length, it should not have taken that long for her to read, so she was curious as to why her daughter had fallen silent. "Mordred?"

The King in question, with great resolve, folded the letter from the single most important person in her life and put it in her left breast pocket. "I am sorry, Mother. Now where were we? Oh yes, apple cobbler. When can we expect that?" she questioned mischievously, instantly dispelling the tense atmosphere she had radiated moments ago.

Igraine gave her daughter a searching look, but if Mordred did not want to talk about it she would not push the issue. "Well, after I get into my other clothes of course! The finery I have on now would get dirty otherwise," she answered with a soft smile.

"Good! That would give us some time to set up the table. I'll send for Herod and Whitemane, they love your apple cobbler," Mordred said with a grin on her face.

"Oh yeah, Herod would absolutely be enraged if he found that he missed out," Abbendis agreed with a grin. The children of the Scarlet Crusade, before they became the Scarlet Crusade, had all grown up together under the watchful eyes of their fathers, the first generations of paladins.

There was a bond between the first generation paladin that the current generation does not quite share. Mordred, who had been the youngest of the children had taken control of the group from Renault when she became their playmate. In retrospect, it was a blessing. Who knew where Herod, Whitemane and the others would be now had they still followed the older Mograine brother.

It was then a something occurred to her, this was her chance to find out more about Lady Arturia. "Mordred likes sweets and your apple cobbler the most. What was Lady Arturia's favorite food?"

Everyone looked to see a frown marred Lady Igraine face. "Arturia's favorite food was..." she started slowly but was not looking at the crowd that now showed great interest in her answer."... food," she finished.

Everyone in the room blinked at the answer. It was Oracle Demetria who voiced the question on everyone's mind.

"Pardon?" the High Oracle asked and was concerned to see Lady Igraine's frown deepen.

"Arturia favorite food was simply food," Lady Igraine said in frustration. "She thought my cooking was fine, good even. But then again, she would eat anything you'd put in front of her."

"Surely you jest," Abbendis spoke up with a small chuckle. "Every girl has to have at least one food they absolutely love. In my case I love the chocolate from Noble Garden's festival. You can get me to do almost anything for a basket full of those delicious eggs."

Igraine shook her head to refute the brown haired woman's statement. "I once made something bland on purpose and the girl ate it without a word of compliant. In fact she ate so much, I though her stomach would burst from it all," she recalled fondly.

"Hunger is the enemy," Mordred said suddenly before looking sheepishly at her mother who looked at her in surprise.

"Ho…how did you know? That's what's Arturia always said when we fed her, she acted like every meal given to her might be her last," Igraine explained for the others.

"Umm... I use to think the same way?" Mordred replied evasively before shooing her mother into the kitchen.

'_Three days, hmm father? What will your verdict on my kingdom be I wonder?'_

**** Kalimdor, Darkshore****

As the ship reached Auberdine Harbor, Saber stood tall on its deck and watched the Night Elf of Auberdine with great interest. She had to admit, she did not know what to expect. Maybe something similar to Celtic design, but everything before her far exceeded her expectation. It was as if nature herself had risen up and crafted the village before them. Already, she could see the majority of the inhabitants were the taller Night Elves, with Humans, Dwarfs, and the occasional blue tentacle-faced creature sprinkled among the crowds.

"And we're here m- Highlord Arturia," Bedivere Lakesong announced as the ship finally docked.

Saber had to admit that the ship she sailed on, of Human design, lacked the elegance of the Night Elf ones she had seen scattered about. "Such a small force to protect their coast line?" she asked her former knight

"The Kaldorei lost much of their navies during the war against the Burning Legion, and more against the mad Elf Illidan and his Naga allies," Bedivere answered and saw the rest of the group step onto the docks that drew some looks from the people around them.

High Elves were here in Night Elven territory as Gawain made his presence known. With him were two female High Elves that had stepped in protectively to either side of him and looked uncertainly at the town.

"Why are they looking at me mistrustfully, Lady Lakesong?" Gawain inquired of the Night Elf. It's not that he hated her, but he did not quite believe the Night Elf. Sir Bedivere was a man, the woman before him was almost as different from the stoic Bedivere as possible. She laughed, joked, and smiled with the rest of her force. He had upheld his knightly code for years, why had Bedivere not done the same? Damn the woman who, even now, smiled at him indulgently as if she knew his every thought.

"You still do not believe I am who I say I am, do you?" Bedivere declared softly in an amused tone. "But I don't think I need to prove myself to you. It is only our Highlord that I need to convince."

Gawain was once more reminded of how unlike Bedivere the Night Elf was. Bedivere, the real Bedivere, would care about the opinions of the knights of the round. The Night Elf smiled at him again in a friendly manner as if knowing his current thoughts. "Your ma- Highlord, let us make sure the area is safe."

"No," Saber said as she marveled at the Night Elven race and architecture. "Bedivere is my guide and she assured me we will be safe. Trust her."

Even Saber had to admit that thinking of this feminine Night Elf as Bedivere was strange. Yet here she was in the flesh. It would be rude to think of Bedivere as anything but a woman after she lived for almost a hundred years as such. Gawain obviously had trouble believing, but at the core, Bedivere had always been loyal but solemn, and the quickest to adapt in any given situation. And this Bedivere appeared to have found peace during her long vigil.

"Thank you, Lady Arturia," Bedivere bowed. She had to admit that seeing her King act so casual was heartening. Why, her antics with Lancelot were quite amusing. Sir Lancelot also seemed to have been healed from the mad man she had seen in another life. It was as if being near their King rejuvenated the knight. How foolish were they that the Holy Grail they all sought was right in front of them. Only their own King did not see herself as such.

Saber was so enthralled by the sights that she almost stepped on a Gnome. Fortunately, her instincts had told her a lump of something had crossed abruptly in front of her path. Used to dealing with Humans or bigger, she never thought she'd have to look down as the bald headed Gnome looked highly offended. It did not help that he demanded her to participate in some random experiment in reparation, an experiment that Sir Gawain was opposed to, which showed when he drew Excalibur Galatine.

"Enough," Saber interrupted the Gnome and her knight's bickering. Looking at the Gnome she gave him a courtly bow surprising the little man. "I am sorry if I have offended you, and while I cannot make such reparations for you, I will offer my apologies Sir Gnome."

The gnome jaw dropped before his face turned red and embarrassingly waved off her off. "No, no, no. No trouble at all!" the Gnome replied quickly. The person in front of him was someone important, and he thought it best not to antagonize her. The girl was courteous too, and pretty to boot. No need to make a fuss.

With the situation resolved and Bedivere even giving some coin to the Gnome, they continued to their destination.

Saber continued to follow her former knight to the hippogryph's roost. Another thing that changed during her time away was the common use of flying creatures, such as the bird-like hippogryph, by the races to travel great distances quickly. Apparently these avian creatures had been trained to follow a pre-determined flight and Dwarves used gryphons while gnomes built contraptions made out of wood and metal to fly in. It oddly reminded her of her time with Irisviel and Shirou, where flying machines made of metal were the norm. After another half hour of slow walking to take in the sights, she saw the hippogryph roost with hundreds of the bird-like creatures sitting in their straw beds.

"Elune Adore Flight Master," Bedivere greeted with a bow to the snowy haired Night Elf tending the roost.

"Elune Adore sister," the snowy haired Elven woman replied. "How many will be traveling today?"

"Seven," Bedivere answered. Two of her companions, two of Gawain's and their King who had garnered the attention of a baby hippogryph. The small youngling was cooing at her liege and, to Bedivere's surprise, she saw her King playing with the wild creature. "Highlord, they are ready."

The blonde in question straightened herself immediately and acted as if she never had been playing with the baby bird. Of course, the little creature enthusiastically rubbed its cheek against her plated greaves.

"Where to, Sister?" the Flight Master asked as she marked seven of her hippogryphs off her chart.

"The Moonglade," Bedivere replied and saw the sharp look on the flight master's face.

"That is a druid-only sanctuary unless it's festival time," the Flight master replied and saw the attractive Night Elf before her hand her something. A moment later her eyes widened. This was... "Of course Lady Lakesong, I did not realize. Right this way."

"You are renowned here?" Saber asked her reincarnated knight. Her eyes took in the different figure once more. Bedivere had changed but the core personality was there.

"More as a curious mystery then any real reason," Bedivere answered as she hopped onto the first hippogryph that prostrated itself before her. A moment later her King easily mounted hers, with Gawain and the other two High Elves mounting their own with familiarity as they took off.

The Flight Master watched as her charge left and shook her head. Guardian Lakesong rarely left the Moonglade, but now she was bringing in outsiders. She wondered if Priestess Tyrande knew. Writing a quick message, she sent it to their race leader.

+++++ Three Hours Later ++++

Saber had to marvel at how quickly the creatures had traveled over such a large swath of distance. From what was known as Darkshore, they had flown all the way down to a Night Elven bastion, the last one from what she had been told, called Astranaar. The flight there had been an eye opener for her, even as the wind brushed up against her face. It offered her a bird's eye view of the entire landscape. Such an aerial advantage must have completely changed the nature of war. The view was also nice, the Night Elven lands were majestic, a natural beauty untouched by the hands of men. It also afforded Bedivere and her Night Elven followers to the ability to blend into the surroundings. Fighting them would be hard indeed.

On the way there Saber had noted what appeared to be several empty Night Elven forts, scattered throughout Ashenvale. That was when Bedivere told her of how the Orcs invaded the Night Elven lands and killed the defenders of Ashenvale, cutting down their great trees and even managing to kill their demi-god Cenarius. Truly anything the Orcs touched was destroyed and even now, still maintained a presence here. She had to wonder why the Alliance let the Horde rampage unchecked through their ally's land. However, her information was out of date so she refrained from commenting. She could see from Bedivere's two female companions that the subject matter was a sore point with them.

"Your ma- Highlord, we are now entering the Moonglade," Bedivere shouted over her shoulders. She was pleased to see her King enjoying the beauty of nature that her people had created with Ashenvale.

Saber nodded at her knight and turned to look back at Gawain. The two knights turned Elves could not be more different, Bedivere had always been tall, but she now was much taller than even Gawain, who was even taller in his new body. She saw her knight look at her and nodded in acknowledgment.

Gawain also had to admire the Nigh Elven land, and could see similarities to High Elven structures. However, he still preferred the more civilized aspect of his society to the wild and untamed look of the Night Elves. Looking at his two Lieutenants, he could see that they thought similarly, though it had surprised them both seeing as how this was their first time stepping foot back on Azeroth after two decades trapped on the broken world of Draenor. They were told the only way they would be welcomed back in Quel Thalas would be to pledge their loyalty to Silvermoon, and by extension the Horde. Lor'themar Theron himself had come to convince Gawain and the other High Elves to return under their banner and that their people could not afford to be so divided in the wake of what happened.

Of course what happened was their lands were shattered by the Scourge. Worse still, every time one of their own died, another was added to its already vast force. If only the full might of the Alliance had been there, he was certain the outcome would have been different.

The Alliance that he joined failed, but not because of any outside force. It failed when his people pulled out of the Alliance and two Human nations left in protest of Terena's action. He had shown mercy to the defeated Orcs and kept Doomhammer as an honored guest. That left only Lordaeron and the Dwarves as the real members of the Alliance.

While the Alliance on Outland became a close knit community, Gawain had worried that the Alliance in Lordaeron would not have endured. The greed of men was too obvious and as savvy as King Terenas was, he was no Arthur Pendragon. He was sure, had his King been there, the Alliance would have held. The sheer force of will she exerted was undeniable and the promises she made were always fulfilled even during the uprising of her people. Arthur may have died at Camlann, but he still won the battle and broke Mordred forces, a force that had outnumbered Arthur's own five to one. He had speculated on Britannia's fate now that both forces were gone, but found that as the years went on, he cared less and less. They had abandoned his King, so they deserved their fate. Let the Danes, Picts, Jutes, Saxons, Anglo, Vandals, and Franks come for them. They reaped what they sowed.

Shaking his head again, Gawain mentally chided himself for such thoughts. It was against the code, which now came into conflict with what his King had ordered him to do. She wanted the Gawain of old by her side. He was not sure he could fulfill such a request, but he would try his hardest to see it come to fruition. It was then he sensed a powerful presence that dampened his connection to the sun.

"Do not be alarmed," Bedivere said as the town of Nighthaven came into view. She could feel the presence of Elune's power in the area. For someone like Gawain, who was closely tethered to the sun, it would be as if he was cut off. "It is as it should be."

Gawain nodded, but was still uncertain. He rested his hand on the hilt of Galatine, drawing from its strength. Looking around, he spotted the Night Elven sentries patrolling the area and even made eye contact with one of them in the distance. Before anything else could be done, the hippogryph closed in on its roost and landed. Immediately, he saw himself surrounded by several dozen Night Elven archers, their bows notched, aimed at him and his two Lieutenants.

"Elune Adore Guardian Lakesong," Huntress Malyesh dismounted from her panther, a three star glaive on her arms as she looked pointedly at the Blood Elves in their midst. "You are a welcome sight, daughter but you bring strangers with you. Why is that?"

"Elune Adore, mother," Bedivere greeted the woman who raised her. She then saw that her King was looking impassively at the other Night Elves around her, showing no sign of fear. It seemed that she was still the King Bedivere had served long ago. "Strangers they may be, but they are with me. After all, today is the day I complete my task for Elune."

There was quiet murmuring amongst the Night Elves as they looked at one another. Even Huntress Malyesh looked taken aback. "Your... task... is complete today?" she replied in a surprised tone before looking at the people the Guardian brought with her. "One of them is the chosen of Elune?"

The murmuring from the Elven sentinels got even louder as they started to look at the four strangers in their midst.

"Yes, Mother," Bedivere said with a smile. She stepped aside and flourished her arms to her King. "She is the chosen of Elune."

The murmur was gone completely now, instead the sentinels were openly discussing what had just been said by Bedivere Lakesong.

"A Human is the favored of Elune?"

"It cannot be. Could Guardian Lakesong be wrong?"

"It has been hundreds of years since Elune's Blade has been seen, surely Elune would not favor some outsider."

"If Guardian Lakesong is sure, then today is a momentous occasion indeed."

Saber stood and stepped forward looking at the taller Night Elves in her midst. She would not back down from them, she was no country girl to be cowed. "My name is Arturia Pendragon of Stormwind," she declared as she looked at all the Elves before her. She then gave a soft nod to them. "I thank you and Bedivere for keeping Excalibur safe all these years."

The Night Elves could feel the presence and authority in the smaller mortal girl. Her presence was impossible to ignore, and many of the Night Elves had been among demigods.

"This way," Bedivere said as she walked down the steps from Nighthaven down to the Elune'Ara Lake.

The journey took an hour by foot, but by the time they reached the lake itself, they had amassed quite a following. Almost seamlessly, other Night Elves in the same armor as Bedivere melded out of the shadows and bowed low to Guardian Lakesong.

"Ishnu-alah Sister Lakesong, your presence has been sorely missed," Kalrian, second in command of the Guardian forces announced loudly.

"Kalrian," Bedivere acknowledged fondly. "Tell the others to prepare, today is the day our task is complete."

"Yes, Guardian Lakesong," the white haired Night Elf acknowledged as she left to spread the word.

"Gawain, I ask that you stand over there with the rest of my sisters," Bedivere said, pointing to several thousand Night Elves now standing a respectful distance away with more arriving, seemingly from nowhere.

Gawain noticed the crowd growing, some of them dropping out of the sky, transforming from birds. Narrowing his eyes, he noticed there were some Taurens among their ranks also. Horde? Here? His opinion of the Night Elves present dropped several notches. The people here might be one of the neutral factions the Alliance spoke of but he was still not convinced of their altruism.

Saber watched as Bedivere's group, numbering roughly a thousand, stripped out of their purple battle armor and donned silvery white dresses in front of all present. Looking behind her, she noticed there were very few males, and in fact most of the people in attendance were female. No wonder they did not care who saw them nude. Although with their mode of dress, not like they had much more to go before they were nude.

As if one, the white translucent silvery clothed Night Elves began to surround the lake itself, spreading apart from one another but their intent was clear. They had formed a circle. It was then that Bedivere Lakesong walked toward the lake itself.

Bedivere closed her eyes and knelt before the Lake. Her translucent priestess robe splayed all around her. When she had asked to follow her King, she had not heeded what the Lady of the Lake said. She had been surprised to see herself reborn as a Night Elf, an entirely different species. Yet, though the Lady of the Lake sent her here, she had no control where she would end up. It was Elune herself who picked her and gave her soul an Elven form. It was Elune who gave her as a babe to the Huntress Malyesh with orders to care for her, a charge she took seriously. It was also the same day she was told later on that Elune's light shone upon the Lake and a sword of gold was placed in its body. Many Night Elves, druids, and sentinel searched for the blade but only Bedivere had the instinctive knowledge on how to summon it. As she grew older and distinguished herself, she became known as the Blessed Guardian of Elune'Ara. High Priestess Tyrande had acknowledged her as someone touched by Elune and now she could finally fulfill her duty. Not only to Elune, but to her King as well. It was with that final thought that Bedivere and the other Guardians, who volunteered to help her with her charge, began to sing to the Moon Goddess.

There were no words for Saber to describe the hauntingly beautiful melody that was being sung by the Night Elves. Even the Night Elves that had backed away had joined the ones by the lake in song. She could see no visible instrument yet, there must have been instruments playing as the very forest around her echoed with its tune. How long the song went on for, she could not say, only that when it stopped she found herself extremely disappointed. It was then that Bedivere sung a different song, one which no one else joined.

As if summoned to Bedivere's solo, a beam of pure silvery moon light shone upon the lake. From the lake rose a powerful watery spirit that was shaped like a night elf. And embraced in the water spirit's arms was a sword of silver, gold and blue. Of manifested glory.

The Night Elves that saw the figure immediately prostrated themselves.

Saber saw the spirit embracing Excalibur stay in the center of the lake and understood what she had to do. Without hesitation, she began to stride purposefully onto the lake and was not surprised when the water of the lake supported her.

Gawain had seen many demons, but never a real god. He did not kneel like the rest of the Kaldorei, but he did bow low in respect. His two Lieutenants had already done so of their own volition. They knew on an instinctive level that this entity was responsible for their race creation, a deity they had abandoned.

The Night Elves in attendance knew who the figure in the lake was, it was Elune's Reflection. Now, as they watched as the Human girl walk upon the lake, supported by Elune herself, they cast aside any doubts they harbored. Elune's actions spoke for the Human, the Sacred Sword was for the young mortal.

It was when Arturia finally closed the distance with the watery spirit that Elune's reflection spoke in a language not of Azeroth. **"Greetings King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot, High King of Britannia, and the King of Knights in Gaia's Throne of Heroes,"** she said in perfect Latin.

"I greet you, Elune, Goddess of the Night Elves and Moon Goddess of Azeroth," Saber replied formally. She drew herself to her full height even as the power of Elune washed over the area.

"**Vivian, was right about you. So strong willed, you could have saved this world much pain and suffering**," Elune's Reflection said, her arms still embracing the Sword.

"So it _was_ you that brought me here," Saber nodded at the confirmation. She'd never forget the warmth and the cascade of silvery lights when she was reborn into this world. "I have to thank you for giving my knights and I a chance for redemption."

"**Do not thank me, for I brought you here across time and space for one reason. I had need of your skill in war craft**," Elune stated as the water rippled across her body. "**I needed you here to defeat the Legions to protect my children. I had sensed Sageras' taint in the Eastern Kingdoms and it was there that I placed you and your great blade, Caliburn**."

"Then it shall be done," Saber declared. But she saw the water ripple violently before settling.

"**It is too late**," Elune replied after a few moments. "**My children were slaughtered, their lands still burn from the Legion's taint and they sacrificed everything to destroy one of its mighty leaders. I had not counted on the Bronze Flight's interference**."

Saber blinked at Elune statement. "Might I ask why it is too late?"

"**The main war is over, this world is exposed to the Legion now, the Dark Portal is connected to Azeroth. The task I had needed of you, for you to be High King of your kind, is no longer needed. The Bronze Flight only saw their way as the correct way. They would not chance what they could not see, that one single ripple can change time as they know it. They chose the surest way to accomplish this task, nothing could be changed**," Elune explained as she floated before Arturia in her magnificence.

"So they were the ones that attacked me, removed me from my time," Saber recalled the attack by the Bronze Dragons that stranded her here. "They wanted undead roaming the lands? They wanted Stormwind destroyed?"

"**They **_**needed**_** Stormwind destroyed, they felt that Azeroth was too weak to stand on its own and only saw the Legion's ultimate victory**," Elune spoke with neither hatred nor malice. "**They could not see you, you whose strength of will is unmatched in the cosmos and what they could not account for they would destroy**."

Saber balled her hand into a fist. Stormwind, the deaths of her friends, her soldiers, all manipulated for some plan.

"**Do not be angry with them, though I'd not fault you for it,**" Elune spoke after a few moments, interrupting Arturia's dark thoughts. "**They did what they thought was right, just as I did what I felt was right. I wagered that you could unite your kind into a force for good. To end their petty squabbles and unite them like you did in your lands. The Orcs would have come, but you would have beaten them back. Your knights would have sought you out, Excalibur would have been yours once more, and an Alliance between your kind and my children would have formed**."

"It did happen like that, after a fashion," Saber pointed out.

"**That is correct**," Elune agreed with a slight nod of her head. "**But not in the way I had envisioned. You would have been Humanity's eternal king to stand guard with my children against the Legion till the end of time.**"

Saber tilted her head slightly. "You realize that as a mortal and even with Avalon, I would die eventually."

"**Not if I had tied you into Nordrassil itself**," Elune revealed. She sensed the lack of knowledge on the smaller Human and elaborated. "**Nordrassil was the World Tree that empowered my children, it granted them immortality save warfare and immunity to sickness and disease. I would have granted you such a gift and let you rule for all eternity, but it is gone now. Many of my children are dead, their might but a shadow of itself, just like Humanity's**."

"Then are you saying you no longer need me?" Saber asked in surprise at what the Moon Goddess was telling her.

"**I brought you here to divert a great catastrophe, it had happened despite your presence in this world**," Elune spoke as she slowly floated even closer to Arturia. "**I underestimated the Bronze Flight's need for linearity, their obsession with destroying aberration in their time ways. Now the world has entered an age of chaos, where nothing makes sense anymore. Before, I saw you clearly as a single shining beacon of hope for this world. Now I cannot say**."

"Then what would you have me do? I owe you a life debt," Saber insisted as her eyes never left the watery spirit form. She was honor bound to repay the goddess in some way.

"**Exactly as Vivian described**," Elune said in a pleased voice. "**I gave you life here yes, at great cost of my power on a gambit. I lost and my children paid the price. However, though you were brought here for a purpose, that purpose no longer exists. I have no need to set a task for you. I would not even know where to begin. Your life, as you are now, is your own to do with what you will. I only ask that if my children are ever threatened beyond their own strength that you come to their aide. It matters not if you come with an army or alone, so long as you do not let them stand alone, I would consider our debt repaid**."

Saber digested Elune's offer for a few moments before looking back at the watery figure. "You would not bind me to your service as is your right?" she asked.

"**I have no need to**," Elune answered in her melodious voice. "**My children are enough, live your life as you please**."

Saber then did something she rarely did, she bowed on one knee and swore an oath. "I, Arturia Pendragon, hereby honor your wish. I will not disgrace your gift of this new life and as long as I draw breath, I will always come to your children's aid when needed."

"**I thank you King of Knights**," Elune replied as she suddenly grabbed Excalibur by its blade and offered it to the blonde in front of her. "**I hereby return the blade that had been entrusted to me by Vivian. I also deliver her final words: Arturia Pendragon, live as you always have, and remain true to yourself. Excalibur was and is, now and forever, yours**."

Reverently, Saber took off her gauntlets and slowly wrapped both her hands around Excalibur's hilt. As her hand gripped her legendary blade, Saber took a moment to savor the familiar feeling again and pulled the blade to her face. In it, she could see her reflection once more. Unlike Caliburn, which was a ceremonial blade, Excalibur was flatter, its blade wider, its design more simplistic.

"I thank you Elune, Goddess of the Moon."

"**I now give you a gift, so that my children would know I favor you as one of them**," Elune said softly before her body floated directly into Arturia and submerged the girl into her watery form. The submersion was only for an instant, before the watery spirit backed away to reveal the blonde human. Gone was her Mithril grey armor, and in its place, with the same exact design, was a silver metal one. The old runic symbol on her chest was still there, but on its side, elven runes could be seen glowing. "**You can dismiss it at will and equip it at a moments noticed without the need to exert your own mana. It also will help you hide Excalibur so you will not have to sheath it on you at all times**."

"I... I cannot thank you enough for such a generous gift," Saber replied honestly as she marveled at the perfectly fitted silver armor. Her old armor was comprised of her own prana, the reason why she wore mithril was because it was sturdier then any metal on earth. It was also magic resistant to some degree, but most of all, during war time, she could keep it on at all time. Now, she had a better version, and it could be dismissed at will, giving her freedom of movement when she wanted. It was an invaluable gift. "Thank you."

The Moon Goddess dipped her head in acknowledgment and before her watery form melted back into the lake. A moment later, the silvery light that had been cast upon its body began to retract back toward the sky. The Nigh Elves looked on in respectful awe as their goddess had held a conversation with someone not of their faith. In fact their goddess spoke in a language no one had ever heard of before. Who was this Human girl?

"**Farewell, Arturia Pendragon**," Elune's words gently caressed the entire area in Darnassian as she faded away. "**I shall watch your deeds with great interest**."

And just like that, Saber found herself standing on the lake under the regular moonlight again. Somehow, it was comforting to know that there was an actual deity on that moon. She turned her head to shore and saw a massive crowd of Night Elves had filled the area. Slowly, she strode back to the bank, walking firmly on the tranquil body of water. She knew she should have fallen into the lake, but Elune was apparently kind enough to wait for her to get to ground. It would look undignified after everything that had transpired. Smiling softly, Saber had to admit that the goddess had a knack for theatrics.

The races present watched in awe as the blonde girl walked regally to shore, the legendary Blade of Elune in her hand. Her armor was Elune-blessed of that they had no doubt, it shimmered as if it were kissed by Elune's light.

Bedivere saw Gawain's reverent expression and smiled. Now it was her turn. No sooner had her King arrived back on land did Bedivere kneel before her King. "Your Majesty," she spoke in perfect Latin. "I ask that you take me back into your service. My old oath had bound me only until your death. I wish to pledge my service to you once more."

"Sir Bedivere," Saber replied back in Latin, startling the other Night Elves that were dressed similarly to her former knight. "I am no longer a King, I have no country, and my house is an empty one. Why would you want to serve me? Would you not rather serve Elune or your Night Elven brethren?"

"I care not for that, my King. I have never pledged my loyalty to anyone or any powers here," Bedivere explained to her King. "I have waited all these year to serve you once more. They had called me the Guardian of Elune's Sacred Sword, but did not know its true name. I did not see it fit to tell them. Now that you have retrieved it, I am no longer needed. I wish to serve you once more, my King. Please! My place is, as it always has been, by your side."

Saber made eye-contact with her former knight, and measured her desire with a look. Bedivere, to her credit, never looked away and laid her soul bare for her King to see. Nodding softly, she held the sword in front of her face, its blade reflecting her image even as she did so. "Sir Bedivere, it is your wish to be knighted by me and bound into my service again?" she asked.

"It is, Your Majesty," Bedivere replied reverently. Her head bowed low as she answered.

"Then Bedivere Lakesong, Do you pledge yourself to me, to uphold the code of the Round Table? To defend the weak against the strong, to protect Azeroth from all who would do it harm?" Saber asked as she looked down at the kneeling Elf that was still tall, despite the position.

"I do, Your Majesty," Bedivere answered without hesitation. Her heart was hammering in her chest. It was as if she was a mere country knight again and meeting Arthur for the first time. She was over three hundred now for Elune's sake!

Raising Excalibur high into the air for all to see, she spoke some familiar words. The words that bound them to her. "Then, I, Arturia Pendragon, King of Camelot and High King of Britannia, now take you into my service until I release you or upon my death," She then took the legendary sword and knighted the Night Elf in front of her. "I now knight you, Sir Bedivere Lakesong of the Moonglade. I shall depend on you like I have done in days past."

The feeling of elation of being knighted again as she felt the blade touch her shoulders was indescribable. She had waited so long and now she was once more a knight of the round table. It did not matter if her King did not have a kingdom to her name or if her title did not count on this world. Bedivere knew that she belonged at her King's side and she would never leave her.

"I am honored, Your Majesty."

"Rise Bedivere," Saber ordered and watched as her knight complied. Placing a hand on the Night Elf's shoulder she pulled the taller woman down to within earshot and whispered words for her knight alone.

_"Thank you, truly, for completing the final task I entrusted you with my most loyal knight."_

With that, Saber released a stunned Bedivere, who was rooted in place at her King's words. Her king had remembered her final service on her old world and acknowledged it.

"Guardian Lakesong?" Kalrian, second in command of the Guardians of Elune'Ara, came up to her leader. A leader whose eyes appeared to be slightly misting over. "Are you okay? What was that all about?"

"I believe this is the happiest day of my life, Kalrian," Bedivere replied with a smile. "Now that my job is now over, I have pledged myself to Arturia Pendragon and bound myself to her. You too are now free of all obligations, perhaps you would join the Sentinels?" she teased.

Kalrian looked at her superior oddly before she replied. "Don't you know Guardian Lakesong? "Whoever wields the blade, we would follow. And as our leader, whom you serve we would also serve. The two goals coinciding just makes it easier for us," she stated in a serious voice. "Do you think she would take us?"

"But, our sect numbers over a thousand. You mean to tell me they will all be following Highlord Arturia?!" Bedivere asked incredulously.

"Yes and any family they might have, we have pledged ourselves and have awaited this moment with you for a long time. We are not about to let our journey end here," Kalrian answered firmly. "Do you think you can teach me the words to pledge myself to your King?"

Bedivere was stunned by her second in command words. "How did you..."

"I have been having visions of such a figure for a while now, I guess Elune granted me these visions. In that vision, in a strange land, the Golden King fought any who might dare oppose him. It is not coincidence that the Golden King happened to look like her. If you find her worthy to serve under then so would I," Kalrian explained plainly. Then she looked at the expression on her leader's face. "If it helps, it seems that you and even the High Elf there are trying to keep this a secret. I think I am the only one that knows, and I will keep quiet."

Bedivere had to laugh, found out already. Sighing, she patted her second-in-command on the shoulders. "Okay, I will teach you the words, but you have to mean it when you say it. To not do so is a grave insult, understand?" She looked into the younger Night Elf's eyes to be sure of her understanding of the gravity of the situation.

"Of that you need not worry. I do not bind myself to anyone lightly," Kalrian said before she walked away from her superior. They needed to pack up their faction and leave with Highlord Arturia.

Shaking her head, Bedivere was about to catch up with her King, who was simply looking at the assembled Night Elfs impassively, when a group of hippogryphs arrived in the Moonglade. It took the former Human turned Night Elf a second to recognize the figure, but when she did her eyes widened. Tyrande Whisperwind was here!

++++ Eastern Kingdoms, Deadwind Pass ++++

Lancelot beheaded the last of the attacking Ogres as he surveyed the battlefield. It was laughable, the Ogres that were here only numbered in the hundreds. After their long march, killing every creature in their way, they were close to their destination.

Behind Lancelot was the entirety of the Brotherhood Knights augmented by the Lioness' Pride finishing up the rest of the giant creatures in the Ogre Mound.

They had several objectives they needed to carry out as per their commander's order.

Suddenly, Lancelot felt rejuvenated, as familiar golden light washed over him. Realistically, he didn't need it but Tiffany was leaving nothing to chance. "Thank you, milady."

The smile must have done something to the cler-no, paladin, as she lowered her head and blushed.

Not for the first time, Lancelot wished he had been able to go with Gawain and the Night Elf. He still found it hard to think of Bedivere as a female Night Elf. What madness was this? At least Gawain, despite being an Elf, still retained much of his features. Bedivere was completely different, and in a body like that, it was borderline criminal. Still… his King gave him his orders, and he would see them through.

"Sloppy, very sloppy," Alice said from next to Lancelot as she looked at the dead Ogres' camp. She too, had been transported, along with the rest of the conjurers under her command. At the time, with the mysterious deaths of so many mages, promotions were given out quickly. As such, Alice found herself thrust into a position of command that she had not quite been ready for. Thankfully, Arturia had helped ease her into such a role and never asked for more than she could do.

Now, after two years of hard fighting under Arturia, Alice Winterbloom could definitely say she could throw down with the best of mages. Still, the Ogres she faced during the war had been a lot more organized than this. These were only a mere rabble as far as she was concerned.

The army quickly got back into formation and marched to their destination.

Karazhan.

To the Brotherhood, it was their home. For the conjurers, it was more than a home, it was the only home they ever knew, and they found out the mages of Dalaran now held dominion over it. That they were trying to pry secrets from its secretive walls. THEIR secrets. Worse still, adventurers had been able to get inside the Mage Citadel thanks to the Bronze Dragons and looted the place.

But Karazhan held many secrets, and not all of them were in plain sight. No there are certain locks and safeguards known only to the conjurers and the Brotherhood themselves.

"There!" a Brotherhood Knight exclaimed as he made out the tower in the distance.

After another hour of marching, they were greeted by a small contingent carrying the Dalaran banner as they approached the tower itself. The size of the force brought to bear before them clearly had some of the violet robed mages and knights unsettled.

Lancelot raised his hand to signal the army to stop and was pleased to hear the sound of metal boots ceasing in unison.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Archmage Alturus of the Violet Eye and mage of Dalaran asked as he eyed the procession. Some of the motifs on their armor looked familiar.

Lancelot looked at the mages before him and the knights that had made their camp around the area. "You are the mages that have been trying to unlock Karazhan?"

The Archmage looked surprised and slowly nodded. "Yes we are. Are you here to help as well?"

"No," Lancelot said flatly before raising his voice. "Effective immediately, anyone found inside and within the vicinity of Karazhan who isn't a mage of Karazhan or a Knight of the Brotherhood will be killed on the spot."

"You can't do this! What are you what right do you have? Dalaran will not stand for this!" Alturus sputtered in indignation.

"As residents of Karazhan. That gives me the right to eject all home invaders," Lancelot replied and saw the ripple of shocked disbelief before the assembled group. "That is right, this tower belongs to the Conjurers of Karazhan."

"What?!" Alturus yelled shocked at the proclamation. No mages of Karazhan survived the first war!

Lancelot merely looked at him coldly. "You have been evicted. Leave. Now."

Within half an hour, Karazhan was cleared of Dalaranian presence. No doubt they would hear from the mage city again, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that they had a base of operations.

The first part of his King's orders had been carried out. But now, to clear out any stragglers inside.

TBC...

AN: If anyone is curious, the song sung was called "Nightsong" I quite like that elven song. Has a certain majesty to it all. And now for the note!

Excalibur's back and the world will tremble! I figure since Elune is a moon goddess and Saber had always been touched by the moon as said in FSN wiki, the two goes together like bread and butter. _Now_ we all know her original plan for Saber but it doesn't matter anymore. Not in the Age of Chaos. So a High King of the Humans combine with the Night Elves would have beaten the Legion back or a very high chance of doing so.

Also, yes, the Bronze helped Dalaran and adventurers loot Karazhan. :D The price you pay of course is helping Medivh open the Dark portal and help bring the Orc army over ^_^.

So, this will be the final chapter since I now deserve a break:D Been working in this project week in week out, checking and double checking. Hence the face update but the high burnt out rate also. Thankfully patch 6.0 and Warlords of Draenor is coming out so it'll be a nice little break ^_^.

Pertinent Info:

Trash Novels- Yes, there are smut novel all over WoW. In fact you find some on your adventures and thanks to Warlords of Draenor, they will now have illisturation. So smut of Lancelot and Saber "fanfics" are out there. Lots of "bosom heaving" type of deal.

Pendragon Holding- Renamed from the Eastern Plaguelands. Was once known as Darrowmere Forest because it got corrupted by undeads.

Nighthaven- Actual Night Elf town in Moonglade. Neutral Territory

Scarlet Crusade- So we come to it at last! They were a fanatical group that was really large and had representatives all over Alliance land. They turned out to be corrupted by a demon and you actually kill them all in WoW. Their intention was good, they were just used for their own end.

Argent Dawn – They were members that originally broke off from the Scarlet Crusade due to their more fanatical nature. They decided the best way to do things is to combine all the races into one. They were however much smaller than the Scarlet Crusade. Their original base consists of a small camp in the Western Plaguelands and Light's Hope Chapel. That's it.

Silver Hand Paladins- This was the Order that was created to match the Brotherhood of the Horse. They were wrecked severely by Arthas. In fact he killed a lot of them but they still endured. They originally worked with the Scarlet Crusade but Dathrohan pushed them away so he could control the Scarlets better. Then they were combined later with the Argent Dawn by Tirion Fordring.

Abbendis- Actual WoW character, part of the Scarlet Crusade – Dead in WoW

Orcale Demetria- Actual WoW character, part of the Scarlet Crusade- Dead in WoW

Taelen Fordring- Actual WoW character, part of the Scarlet Crusade – Dead in WoW

Whitemane- Actual WoW character, part of the Scarlet Crusade- Undead in WoW

Herod- Actual WoW character, part of the Scarlet Crusade – Undead in WoW

Dalaran- Mage city to the North always envious of the knowledge of Karazhan. Was looting it during WoW expansion The Burning Crusade.

**Little Glossary on Mordred's background growing up.**

Due to the close friendship between Tirion, Dathrohan, Uther, and Alexandros. Mordred was betrothed to Tirion's son since she was born. However, when Tirion fell out of favor with the Alliance and was disgraced. Mordred's engagement was then moved over to Darion Morgraine, youngest son of Alexandros much to the jealousy of Renault, Alexandros oldest son, for being passed over.

Mordred grew up with the first generation of paladin's children, Whitemane, Renualt, Darion, Herod, and others since. It was a tight circle of friends.

As always, C+C welcomed, reviews appreciated!


	5. Chapter 4

Warcraft belongs to Blizzard

Fate Stay Night belongs to Type Moon

Warning! This is more of a spin off instead of a direct cross with modern day Fate/ Stay Night.

Shout out to Cheeser who work through this even while he had a brush fire to worry about in his area! Wayfarer for pointing out obvious mistakes I missed and keeping my on my toes! Finally sirrah xbox who literally can only work toward the night time after a 12 hour shift on this fic! I thank you all! Happy Holidays!

Chapter 4

_May Elune forever guide your path, Arturia Pendragon._

_Thank you, Tyrande Whisperwind._

**** Eastern Kingdom, Duskwood, Darkshire ****

Althea Ebonlocke, commander of the Darkshire militia Night Watch, was not the only one that noticed the change in town. To be a citizen of Darkshire was to be subjected to the dark, oppressing atmosphere, constantly bombarded by Worgen, undead, vile insects, and Ogres to the south. It was commonly believed that Duskwood was a cursed land. The forest of Sunnyglade, once verdant and vibrant, had taken on a dark hue, accentuated by perpetual darkness that covered their lands. Here in Duskwood, the sun had not shone for over ten years. It was something she had resigned to always live with. This was her home, and she would not be scared away by darkness.

However, something was changing in Duskwood, and it was beginning to spark hope in its citizens.

"I don't believe it. It's even brighter today..." Watcher Keefa observed, looking around the town.

"It makes no sense..." Hogan Ference, their loyal mage whispered.

There were mutterings whispered all throughout the town over the most recent occurrence.

Althea could not help but agree. She took in her surroundings once more and felt hope rising within her. For the past week, the perpetual sense of gloom, the shroud of darkness that hung all over their lands had dissipated. Instead, their town, forests, and entire patrol area was beginning to become brighter. The undead and Worgen in the area had been weakened by the sudden appearance of sunlight and had not been causing as much trouble as before. It was as if someone had broken the curse on Duskwood. It was then she noticed one of her Night Watchmen heading toward her with an alarmed look on his face.

"Commander!" Watcher Brownell, a man in his late thirties, rode into town and gained his superior's attention. "An army approaches!"

Immediately, Althea nodded for the Night Watch to be ready. Judging by Brownell's demeanor, it wasn't a hostile force. Perhaps Stormwind had finally decided to send the aid that her people had requested for so long? Flanked by two of her Lieutenants, she walked out to greet the army only to be surprised that they had stopped respectfully at the entrance to her town.

Upon inspection, Althea saw the banners of Stormwind fluttering proudly in the wind. They had asked Stormwind for aid for years, but never for more than a few hundred soldiers. Their requests had always been ignored and, any attempt to petition the King directly was outmaneuvered with bureaucratic action from the House of Nobles. When the King went missing, it became even harder to get any support from the capital. Now even with the King returned, their request for aid still went unanswered. The people of Duskwood were beginning to lose faith in Stormwind, their mindset was beginning to focus on their own survival.

Now, before her, was a gathering of forces she never thought she'd see for their township. If she had to make an educated guess, she would put their numbers roughly around three to four thousand. Surprisingly enough there appeared to be Blood Elves in their company, no more than a few dozen.

As Althea approached the commander of the army before her, a knight in black dismounted and met her on foot. There was something about the armor that tickled at her memory. She was certain the armor was foreign, but the lion crest on the shoulder signified their allegiance to Stormwind.

"I am Commander Althea Ebonlocke of the Night Watch," she began politely. "I am glad that Stormwind finally decided to send the aide we had requested."

To all assembled the Commander of the Stormwind force stopped in front of her and took off his helmet. There were gasps from either side of her as the two female watchers gazed upon the knight's face. Even Althea felt her face grow hot as she took in the handsome visage before her. The knight in question gave her a courtly bow that would put the noblest in Stormwind to shame before taking her hand into his and lightly brushed his lips against the back of her hand. She felt her face redden further at the gesture.

"Well met Commander Althea Ebonlocke," the handsome knight said with a smile. "I am Lancelot De Luc, second in command of the Lioness' Pride."

The living legend's introduction stunned the Night Watch militia. All in the Kingdom of Stormwind had heard of the return of the Lioness' Pride but many assumed they were being kept barracked by King Varian at the capital. Why were they here? As if in answer to their unspoken question, several wagons full of crates were wheeled into the town.

"Highlord Arturia has heard of your plight," Lancelot declared loudly for all to hear as they looked upon the handsome knight. "And has ordered me to assist you until she arrives."

With a nod, the soldiers started to unload the crates from the wagons.

"What're inside the crates?" Althea asked the legendary knight demurely. She wanted to slap herself. She was Commander of the Night Watch! She shouldn't be acting like an infatuated little girl! And yet, that roguish smile that he sent her way caused her heart to flutter as the footmen slowly pried the lid off one of the crates.

Althea and the other Night Watch members gasped as they looked inside. It contained weapons, high quality weapons. Swords, bows, cross bows, shields, all far superior to the ones they had crafted themselves.

"We know that Stormwind has not... defended you as she should have," Lancelot said darkly before smiling again. "We aim to rectify that mistake."

"But... you were recently returned, how could you make so much in such a short time?" Althea inquired as she looked at the dozens of wagons moving into the town, loaded with more wooden crates.

"They were in Karazhan's Armory," Lancelot answered, making the pretty commander before him widen her eyes in shock. "Oh yes, the mages have repaired the ley lines inside Karazhan, I believe 'Duskwood' will become Sunnyglade within the year again, if not sooner."

Althea Ebonlocke, Commander of the Night Watch, jaw dropped at the declaration. They had always suspected that their vicinity to Karazhan had been the cause of the darkness over their woods, but to hear that the problem had been solved, she did not even know what to think anymore. She dared not hope, but it was Lancelot that grabbed her attention again as they watched the Lioness' army start to pass out armor and weapons.

"Come Commander, we have much work to do. Now, you have a wolf and Ogre problem I believe?"

"And spiders," Althea corrected as she watched her soldiers gather around the wagons to be armed.

"Spiders?" Commander Lancelot asked as he stopped mid-stride as he gave the Commander of Darkshire a hard look. "These... spiders wouldn't happen to be as big as horses would they?"

Taken aback by the look, Althea nodded mutely and blinked curiously as her childhood romantic figure started cursing up a storm.

**** Eastern Kingdom, Pendragon Holdings, Stratholme Harbor***

The first thing Saber noticed about Stratholme was how big it was compared to Stormwind. While Stormwind was efficient and utilitarian in its space, there seemed to be opulence about the city before her. Though here and there she could spot broken and ruined buildings, reminders from the Third War.

The second thing she noted was the bee hive of activity that surrounded the harbor. Focusing her sight, Saber could make out hundreds of soldiers in red armor loading into transport ships. Off the coast, she counted no less than thirty ships, of which five of them were significantly larger than the others.

"Guardian Bedivere, an attack group is headed this way!" a Night Elf Sentinel shouted from the top of her bird nest.

Bedivere Lakesong, former Guardian of Elune's Sacred Sword and now knight to Arturia Pendragon, used her enhanced sight and saw Mordred's ships moving to intercept them. "Battle formation and ready the Glaives but do not fire!"

With the efficiency only hundreds of years of practice could result in, Hippogryph riders took to the air, while druids took on the form of birds and hid behind their air riders even as their ships turned and exposed their side at the incoming ships to better fire the maximum amount of their tri-star siege weaponry.

"Mother, you're in charge while I go parlay with the Scarlet's," Bedivere spoke and saw her mother nod at her orders. "Highlord, by your leave."

Saber merely nodded as her knight transformed into a purple bird and flew toward the red bannered ships.

"We will be ready, Highlord Arturia," Malyesh the former Captain of Nighthaven spoke to the smaller blonde.

Saber shook her head, she was almost certain that it was just a precaution. After all, suddenly showing up with a fleet of twenty Night Elf ships would definitely make people concerned. She found herself mildly surprised by the events. She had set out seeking Excalibur, but when the Guardians of Excalibur had wanted to come along, it had been understandable. The fact that their family wanted to come as well was remarkable.

But it was Bedivere's mother, who had resigned her post at Nighthaven to follow her daughter that surprised even Bedivere herself. Saber realized that Malyesh must have been a beloved leader as no sooner had she resigned from her post did half of Night Haven's standing forces also resign. Officially, they were coming along as civilians and families of the Guardians. Now Saber had a little over five thousand Night Elves who had pledged themselves to her service. Adding that to the two thousand Gawain had recalled from Outland, her forces had swelled to twenty seven thousand.

"She returns Highlord," Malyesh announced, her eyes never leaving the deck of the Scarlet ship her daughter had landed on.

Saber tracked Bedivere's bird form flying from the Scarlet's ships in the distance back toward her. With a graceful dive toward the deck, the bird transformed back into her knight. "What news do you bring, Bedivere?"

Bedivere frowned but gave her report. "It is, as we suspected, just a misunderstanding. They had been expecting you, Your Ma- Highlord Arturia but did not realize you would be coming with a small Night Elven fleet."

"And the activity on the harbor?" Saber prompted. As she looked on, more escort ships and a few larger battleships pulled out to sea. She noticed Bedivere' expression grew more concerned.

"Tyr's Hand in the south of Pendragon's Holdings is under a Scourge assault." Bedivere reported and looked at her king. "Mordred rode south earlier to bring reinforcement to their forces. But she could only bring a strike force of a few thousand on horse. The armada planned on cutting through Quel Thalas' controlled sea to land a larger force on the eastern coast of Tyr's hand. Hence they are assembling such a large naval force."

Saber saw Malyesh bare her fangs at the mention of the Scourge. The Scourge had caused severe damage to the Night Elves lands in conjunction with the Burning Legion. Thankfully, the Night Elf Druids had cleansed most of the blighted land.

"They were told to escort you to Pendragon's Keep and give you every accommodation by Mordred before she left," Bedivere said in some amazement. She had heard rumors of the Red King, but to find out that it was Mordred of all people had been a shock. Unlike Gawain, who only felt hatred for Mordred, Bedivere had served with the knight and had grown fond of him. He was a good knight, a bit reckless occasionally, but had always served honorably. That everything happened the way it did was a tragedy in her eyes. To think that Mordred now claimed dominion over such a large area and named it after Arturia only proved to Bedivere how much the 'son' still loved her father.

Saber was in deep thought. She knew that Mordred, while capable, was not the King Camelot had needed. However, it appeared that the Mordred of old had been tempered. To ride south first to blunt their attack while gathering a larger army behind the expeditionary force, that showed Saber that Mordred had planned things unlike before, she was all but certain that the rebellion leader had not thought of anything past taking the crown. That was why she could not allow Mordred to win the throne. No matter the cost. Still could Mordred have truly changed so much? She needed to see this for herself.

"I am going to go lend aid to Mordred. Inform them I wish to transfer ships and join the fleet they are assembling," Saber said as she looked at the gathered fleet of ships in the distance.

"I don't think so, Highlord Arturia," Bedivere answered, shocking the King with her defiance. "Have you forgotten? We will follow you wherever you go."

"I can't ask you to follow me into a battlefield with civilians," Saber countered, recovering from the refusal. Bedivere had always been her most staunch follower, doing whatever she had ordered without question. To be denied so was a bit jarring, and she could not recall if there was ever a time Bedivere ever refused her order.

"Highlord, I assure you, they are civilians in names only, we are a long lived race. Trust me, we can fight," Bedivere informed her King. No doubt her King was thinking in Human terms, but the only reason why a Night Elf would become a civilian was because they were tired of fighting or taking a vacation from fighting.

"It is true Highlord, most Elves are trained from a young age. The Quel Dorei usually engage in hedonistic pleasure to take a break from the monotony of a soldier's life," Gawain chimed in. He had been unusually silent on the deck, mainly due to being outnumbered on the ship. After all, he was the only male here. He figured the less attention he drew to himself the better.

"Oh do you now, Gawain?" Bedivere raised an eyebrow and looked at her High Elf companion with an amused smirk.

Gawain was confused at first as to why Bedivere was smirking before he realized what she was implying. "What? No! I never engaged in such practices!" he sputtered while looking beseechingly at his King.

Saber had been in the middle of trying to picture a hedonist Gawain and found it very hard to do so. Giving up on the task, she noticed the disappointment from her knight's two female High Elf companions and realized that Gawain would probably never participate in such activities.

"Bedivere..." Saber coughed at the amusing interaction, before realizing she rarely enjoyed herself with her knights like this.

Bedivere nodded and turned to Gawain, patting him on the shoulder before leaning in and whispering.

"Well, I suggest you start. Your two lovely companions don't seem averse to repopulating your race."

Saber blinked as she saw an extremely red-faced Gawain sputtering some sort of denial while Bedivere laughed.

++++ Pendragon's Holding, Tyr's Hand ++++

Mordred once again cursed the fact that she diverted the forces that kept the Argent Dawn in check into the western part of Lordaeron, formerly called the Western Plaguelands, for the Cenarion Circle. However because she did so it had left Tyr's Hand without significant reinforcement. Not to say that Tyr's hand was lightly defended. Havenshire and New Avalon were heavily fortified and would be able to rebuff anything short of a serious offensive by the Scourge.

An offensive that the Scourge had apparently launched.

Once more Mordred cursed herself, she was certain her father would have never made such a mistake. Looking up in the sky she saw a Scourge Necropolis hanging over the village forts of the Scarlet Enclave, their flying horrors already filling the sky battling her Gryphon riders. She had passed Havenshire to find it in ruins. Doubling her pace she hoped that the Fortress of New Avalon would be able to hold out.

It had taken her several days but she finally arrived with significant reinforcements, including powerful Gnomish siege engines. Unlike the Human built ballista that fired a large spear that exploded and killed anything in the immediate area. The Gnomes had constructed a large vehicle with a massive cannon barrel mounted on its head designed specifically to take down fortress walls and deal with flying units with its smaller mounted guns. Its weakness, of course, was its lack of mobility and rate of fire which made it vulnerable to a ground assault.

"Tinkerer Razzlefink, how soon before the siege machines can get into position and start assaulting the Necropolis?" Mordred asked a Gnome engineer in charge of operating the machines.

"Ten minutes, Your Majesty," the blue haired gnome replied. Seeing the girl nod, he turned around and started to bark orders.

"Taelan, signal our aerial force to set up a buffer screen from this position, we will relieve the New Avalon defenders. Whitemane, Herod, you two are with me," Mordred ordered as she rode with her five thousand knights, comprised mostly of her Royal Guards, toward the fortress town.

Already in front of the town, they could see a vast army of undead ghouls, abominations, and giests trying to climb the wall of the beleaguered defenders. Mordred felt a swell of pride to see her citizens fight the Scourge on their battlement walls, not giving into despair.

Overhead Mordred could make out gargoyles swooping down onto the defenders inside the fortress. From the gunshots she heard, the defenders were not taking too kindly to the invasion.

"Sound the horn and let them know I am here! For LORDAERON!" Mordred roared as the front line of her cavalry leveled their holy enchanted spears and charged. Behind her, Mordred heard the blare of a war horn followed by hundreds of shouts. The Scourge paused when they heard the sound and turned around just in time to see her army bear down on them.

From atop the battlement walls, the defenders of New Avalon cheered at the arrival of their King.

"FOR LORDAERON! FOR THE KING!" the men and women of the New Lordaeron army answered in reply as they smashed into the undead forces.

The undead, as if directed, turned toward the new arrivals and attacked them instead.

There was a thundering sound as Mordred's forces smashed into that of the Scourge mowing down thousands of undead within seconds. However the dead were numerous and despite the initial loss the Scourge forces incurred, they still had more. With the Pendragon forces' momentum tapering off, the undead swarmed toward the new attackers.

"Close ranks!" Mordred shouted as she pulled Clarent from its scabbard and cut down the giest that jumped toward her. "Destroy the Scourge FILTH!"

As one her forces shouted in agreement as they battled the Scourge with a viciousness they never thought to use upon the living.

"RAGGGHH!" A large abomination bellowed as it took the massive cleaver in its hand and brutally cut down several knights from their horses. While the holy enchanted weapons burned the sewn together walking corpse, it still continued to move, wreaking havoc amongst Mordred's ranks.

It was then, Herod, one of Mordred's most ferocious Lieutenant's leaped from his horse and brought his axe down on the abomination's head, severing it cleanly. The Abomination, without a functioning brain, toppled backward onto its own forces. Herod, however, was not done, in full berserker rage now, he unleashed a whirlwind of destruction amongst the Scourge forces and destroyed all who dared challenge him.

In contrast to Herod, Mordred was trying NOT to give into her berserker rage herself. She had to fight controlled and steady, like her father. She was a KING now; she couldn't give over to battle lust no matter how tempting. With careful, controlled strikes she beheaded the ghouls in her vicinity even as she rode toward the group of necromancers trying to raise more skeletal warriors from the dead. She saw the panic in the necromancer's eyes as she destroyed all the undead in her way before she reached the head necromancer in charge.

The necromancer in question eyes lit up fanatically as he stared at the new King of Lordaeron. "As the Lich King predicted! Your reign ends today false King! You will b-urk!"

Having heard enough, Mordred split the Necromancer in half from head on downward. This was a trap, this was Arthas trap for her. "Whitemane! Send the signal now!"

The High Priestess of Lordaeron, encased in a pillar of light that burnt all the undead who got close to her, heard her King's order and fired a ball of light into the air.

No sooner had Whitemane's light soared into the sky then the sound of thundering cannons answered. Dozens of man-sized boulder-cannon balls fired from Taelan's position and smashed into the undead Necropolis hanging over New Avalon. As if in reply the gargoyles that had been hovering protectively around the undead citadel flew in mass toward the point of attack.

Immediately they were met by the gryphon riders of Pendragon Hold. However, that was not the only counter attack as the crystal on top of the Necropolis started glowing a sickly green before firing down onto the ground forces, killing men, horses and destroyed several siege engines.

"We have ten minutes before the next charge!" Whitemane shouted as she pointed at the Necropolis. The attack was powerful but the people of Lordaeron found out long ago that it required time to gather sufficient energy.

"Push onto New Avalon! Give them time to regroup!" Mordred shouted and her forces replied by fighting with fanatical vigor. This was what the Scarlet Crusade's original purpose was for after all, to kill the undead.

As the battle raged all around her, Mordred contemplated unleashing Clarent Blood Arthur again. But to do so, she had to enter a berserker state which would compromise her position as leader. Yet another thing she had fallen short of when compared to her father she noted with a grim look.

When she unleashed the hatred onto the Scourge Necropolis over Stratholme, it was in a desperate bid to win. The forces there were stronger than she had anticipated. Her men were being killed and raised anew. At the time defeat was almost inevitable. Feeling the weight of failure on her, Mordred let herself go and entered her berserker frenzy; no undead stood against her as she destroyed one after another. Then at the height of her hatred she fired Clarent Blood Arthur, the price of failure, the love for her father, the hatred of her father, she channeled it all and struck down the Necropolis. They applauded her for that victory but they did not realize how close she had come to defeat. Shaking her head of such thoughts, she gazed at the battlefield.

At the moment, the battle was in a stalemate; her knights had halted the undead attack, though she could see they were still falling. The pressure from New Avalon had been lifted and even now, she could see the marksmen on the battlements assisting the ground forces outside the wall by firing into the Scourge forces. They just needed to hold out a bit longer; Abbendis was on her way with the fleet and should be arriving anytime now. She had to remain focused; she couldn't leave her forces leaderless just to land a strike. That was her duty as a King. So Mordred fought on.

After ten minutes had passed, the Pendragon forces braced themselves for another attack from the Necropolis. An attack that did not come as a beam of green light fired from the underside of the floating fortress onto the land, blighting it immediately. The soldiers closest to the light raised their shields up to cover their faces from the wind washing out from the point of impact.

It was then a spear flew out and skewered the footman closest to the beam.

"What in the Light name?" The footman next to his skewered comrade exclaimed before a sickly green coil of light shot out and struck him down.

The Pendragon Forces closest to the light backed away hurriedly as figures cloaked in the blackest of armor road out on skeletal steeds. Their hands armed with corrupted rune weapons, their free hands lifted up and started firing coils of death into the Scarlet's army killing many instantly.

Herod saw the black armored figures and his face grew alarmed. "Death Knights!" he shouted in warning. As the champions of the Lich King rode out of the green light by the hundreds.

Immediately, there was a sense of fear among Mordred's army, Scourge units were one thing but the Death Knights were something else entirely. They were the strongest soldiers that had been taken and corrupted by the Lich King. Among their ranks, people could make out Orcs, Trolls, Gnomes, Dwarves, Humans, and all the other assorted races riding toward Mordred's army.

"Death comes for you all!" an Orc Death Knight taunted gleefully as he used his axe on the living soldiers.

"Do not be afraid!" Mordred reprimanded her wavering forces as she charged head first and attacked the closest Death Knight, a tall Troll.

The Death Knight, while skilled, was surprised by the blonde's ferocity. Her strikes were stronger than he anticipated and before he knew it, his arm was separated from his shoulder. "Wha-urgghh."

Mordred pulled Clarent out from the now dead knight's mouth as she stomped on his head to destroy the brain. "Who's next?" she growled as a Blood Elf Death Knight attacked her only to also be killed.

The sight of their King killing Death Knight after Death Knight heartened the men as they began to fight back with renewed vigor. "FOR THE KING!" the soldiers yelled as a battle cry.

"FALSE KING!"

Where moments before the soldiers were renewed in their spirits, the cold deadly voice cut through their ranks. Even their King was not immune as she looked around for the voice. From behind the green pillar the latest figure emerged. The unholy aura he radiated was unnerving.

However, what made many pull back in shock was the weapon the Death Knight was wielding. It was the once famed Ashbringer, the sword of the holy light. It now radiated a sickly green aura, a clear sign of Scourge corruption.

The newly arrived Death Knight was none other than Darion Mograine, son of the Ashbringer and leader of the Ebon Blade, the Lich King's elite Death Knight army.

"Greetings, betrothed," Highlord Darion Mograine greeted his one-time fiancée mockingly. In his right hand was the Corrupted Ashbringer, held casually as he stalked toward the false King.

"So the rumor was true, Arthas corrupted you after all," Mordred replied, clear distaste in her tone. Her stance was battle ready.

"Corrupted?" Darion's inhuman voice rang out incredulously before letting out a hearty laugh. "It was liberation!"

"You keep telling yourself that," Mordred said darkly as she signaled her forces to start moving toward New Avalon's gates. The undead that had assaulted the fort were all but broken, the stragglers had fled toward the newly arrived Death Knights.

"You do not understand yet, but you will," Darion sinister tone promised. "Then we will be together even in undeath."

"Somehow I find that hard to believe," Mordred snorted derisively as she trailed her eyes up and down Darion's body. "I am pretty sure you are dead, in more ways than one."

The insult was not lost on the Lich King's champion as his aura became even more oppressive. "You have a clever tongue, bitch, I'll make sure to cut it out before I present your corpse to the Lich King."

"DARION! GET AWAY FROM HER!"

Darion Mograine turned to the new voice and had to laugh out loud in amusement. There, bathed in pure light, was Taelan Fordring, his silver hammer at the ready as he stalked toward the Death Knights. As he made his way towards Darion, a goblin Death Knight used his agility and leaped at the paladin. Quicker than the Goblin could react, Taelan grabbed the Goblin by its hand and infused it with Holy Light.

"ARRGHHH!" the Goblin Death Knight writhed in agony as Holy Light poured out from his once icy blue eyes.

Taelan dropped the corpse of the charred Goblin and continued to stalk forward, behind him were hundreds of other Silverhand Paladins all channeling the Holy Light.

"How interesting," the Leader of the Ebon Blade said in an amused tone. "But do you think this was all the Lich King gave us?"

As if by some unseen signal two more Necropoli materialized over New Avalon and almost immediately, undead poured forth from its walls. One directly into the Fortress, while the other onto the defenders outside its walls. Devastatingly, the two Necropolis fired directly at where the siege engines were located, destroying over half of them.

"By the Light!" Whitemane gasped as thousands upon thousands of undead began to swarm the area. Channeling the Light like never before, she closed ranks with the army even as she continuously burned the oncoming undead.

"The Lich King really wanted you dead, my betrothed," Darion cruelly gloated at Mordred as the undead army began to encircle her defenders. He inwardly smirked as he saw the expression on the approaching Taelan face.

"Over my dead body!" Taelan growled as he and his Silverhand Paladins charged the Death Knights.

"You've been keeping her bed warm, I presume?" Darion gloated as he moved away from Mordred and charged at Taelan Fordring.

Mordred blinked at the disrespect shown to her by her ex-fiancée and was about to attack when an even more sinister presence made itself known. In the sky were creatures that looked like Valkyries from Norse legends. The ethereal women with wings swooped down close to her.

Getting into a guard position, she saw the flying women hover near her and open a portal.

Impossible as it may have been, the immediate area temperature dropped noticeably and from the opened portal, a horrible presence made itself known. Clad in black armor much like the Death Knights, the figure had a spiked crown on his head and a demonic rune blade in his right hand.

The Lich King had entered the battlefield and his mere presence had a visible effect on the living present. This was the being that broke the old Alliance of Lordaeron, that sacked Dalaran, that culled Stratholme. In so short of a time his mere name was considered taboo amongst the living.

Not so for the new King of Lordaeron whose eyes only held contempt for the undead King.

"Arthas..." Mordred growled under her breath and channeled her prana.

"**Mordred,**" Arthas' voice boomed for all to hear. "**Your reign ends today**."

"End it if you can," Mordred dared to proclaim as she willingly gave herself over to her berserker state. Anything less against the Lich King would result in death.

With a savage cry, Mordred attacked the Lich King.

The Lich King wordlessly matched her ferocity and pushed her back with even faster strikes.

The clank of steel from the two blades rang out over and over again. To Arthas' frustration, the girl's defense was solid though his strength was superior, as evident whenever she brace herself against his strikes. While she was quick and not without strength, he knew his victory was inevitable. After all, no one escapes death.

With a violent clash he met Mordred's overhead strike with his great strength and hurled her away from him before summoning his dark necrotic powers and covered himself with it to form a deadly aura that would damage any near him.

Mordred cleared her mind momentarily from the brief reprieve and came to a conclusion. She needed Clarent Blood Arthur, but there was no way Arthas would let her have enough time to channel it. She could barely fend him off as it was, taking a quick look around; she saw Whitemane and Herod fighting desperately to stem the undead advance. She saw less and less of her forces on the field, being overwhelmed by sheer numbers. She was relieved to see Taelan locked in combat with Darion, alive, the two battling close by, before she refocused on Arthas as he finished filling the area with some black circles on the ground, most likely in an effort to restrict her movement.

"**Now then, let's continue, shall we?**" Arthas goaded and was coiled ready to strike when a massive explosion rocked one of the floating Necropolis making the Lich King turn his head in surprised. "**What?**"

It was then seven more golden stars were seen in the sky, falling down on the battlefield. Closer and closer it came, until many could make out that it was a golden orb of light. It was then the first of the orbs struck the undead and living forces. There was a massive detonation of golden energy that healed the defenders and instantly killed the weaker ghouls and giest. The Nerubian spiders, the Abomination, and even the Necromancers' skin could be seen burning. Seconds later the rest of the orbs landed all over the battlefield, saturating the area in the comforting light. Even the Death Knights suffered as many died from being at the center of an impact.

"Hah, did you think I have forgotten who I was dealing with?" Mordred gloated as more orbs were flung onto the battlefield and against the Necropoli, of which one was already falling. "I am always prepared to face you and your Scourge, Arthas!"

"**You bitch!**" Arthas cursed as an orb was lobbed right on top of him. The attack was painful, it was as if bombs made of Holy Light were being dropped on top of his forces. It no where near as powerful like the attack that was used against him in Stormwind but it was effective none the less.

No matter. He mentally diverted his flying forces to seek out the origin of those that were lobbing these holy bombs and end them. Just as he was about to attack Mordred, his battle instinct made him retreat suddenly. In a flash, another figure created a crater where he had been standing moments before from a single strike.

"**You...**"

"Me," Arturia Pendragon, known as Saber during the Holy Grail War agreed and now coined the Lioness of Stormwind, acknowledged. Looking behind her, she saw that Mordred was a bit roughed up but otherwise unharmed. Already she had coated Excalibur in Invisible Air.

"**Arturia Pendragon**," Arthas breathed out as he was able to view the two sisters side by side.

"Arthas Menethil," Saber replied as she kept her invisible sword in front of her. She tensed, ready to attack when the Lich King started to laugh.

"**I had not recognized you back then... truly, you are as magnificent as Varian said**," Arthas commented to the still guarded girl. Looking back between the two Arthas could not help but notice the difference between Arturia and her sister. It was some kind of intangible glory Arturia had that Mordred did not. Glory that could serve the Scourge if properly harnessed. He would make that glory his, but not today.

"**My Lady**," Arthas gave a courtly bow and mentally commanded his forces to withdraw. His Val'kry opened a portal back to Northrend for him as he retreated. Even the floating Necropoli started to fade, as if being summoned elsewhere.

Highlord Darion Mograine received his master's order and pushed Taelan away from him. "Next time, I'll take her back with me," he taunted the Commander of Mordred's forces as he swiftly retreated through a Val'kyr made portal.

"You will never lay a hand on her, I swear it," Taelan promised softly to himself. Looking around, he noted that there was still a sizable amount Scourge forces left intact. Before he could give the order to form up, star-shaped bolts fell from the sky like rain, destroying the remaining forces. Looking toward the harbor, he saw the Crimson Fleet with what looked like Night Elven Destroyers mingling together. In fact, there was a sizable Night Elf force making their way to shore. It was then he heard the cawing of what he thought was crows only to realize it was not any crow he had ever seen before. There must have been fifty of them that landed on the field before transforming back into Night Elves.

Druids.

Taelen was surprised and wondered if the Cenarion Circle had sent aide? No matter, he turned to check on his King only to do a double take when he thought his vision was playing a trick on him.

There standing face to face with each other, was Arturia and Mordred Pendragon. The scene would forever burned in his mind. Amidst the chaos, standing across from each other, facing one another were the two sisters who could not have been more alike yet different. One clad in red, covered in runic enchanted dull gray plate armor, while the other was dressed in blue, armored in silver plate directly contrasting the one in red.

The Druids had arrived and appeared to take a protective position around Highlord Arturia, while Herod, Whitemane and the remaining royal guards gathered to their King.

It was uncanny how the two sisters looked so much alike despite being years apart. However there were differences, Mordred was almost a full head taller than her sister, with more... womanly features. That is not to say that Arturia paled in comparison. In fact, despite Mordred having the same face, there was something about the Lioness that demanded people's attention over that of Mordred.

The two sisters might as well have been the only people on the field now that the undead were destroyed. Sisters that could have passed for twins stoically scrutinized one another, their expressions mirroring each other as they maintained eye contact as if having some sort of silent conversation.

Saber for her part was taking in Mordred for the first time in her life as someone part of her flesh and blood. A family member she cared little for in her past life, no, that she was not allowed to care for. She was searching for any signs of resentment, of hatred, of bitterness toward her still. Her eyes flickered down to Clarent, the sword that Mordred stole from her treasury. It was worn well. It suited Mordred.

Mordred herself was at a loss, she had not expected to meet her father here of all places. She had wanted to make a big spectacle for her father in Stratholme. To have her father look at what she had built as she made her way through the city streets, to be surrounded by her loyal followers as she sat on the throne, proving once and for all, she could have been worthy. All of that was ruined with the Scourge invasion, and here she was, looking more like a soldier than a King.

Glancing behind Mordred, Saber looked at the crimson clad soldiers. When Mordred rebelled in their past lives, she had a core group of round tables knights but the majority of her forces were mercenaries. Filthy, honor-less scum that raped and pillaged her kingdom. The massive force gathered before her and the one that was unloading from the docks were not those people.

Mordred felt her breath hitch when her father broke eye contact and looked at her soldiers. Quickly she spared them a glance to make sure they were at least presentable. A movement by her father brought her back on guard.

"You did well for yourself..." Saber began as she looked directly into her grown child/sister's eyes. "...King Mordred."

The words from her father's lips shook her, words that she always wanted to hear, that she craved since Morgana filled her head as a child. Acknowledgment from her beautiful, beloved father. She gripped Clarent's hilt tighter then she thought possible.

"Is there anything I can assist you with... sister?" Saber decided. While some part of her would always now consider Mordred her child. In this world, with the blood running through her veins, they were sisters. Of course, that was when Mordred surprised her as she closed the gap between them and threw her arms around her.

Cursing herself for letting her guard down, Saber was about to reflexively shove Excalibur into Mordred's stomach when she heard an odd noise that gave her pause. "Mordred?"

Oddly enough her only reply was Mordred still with her arms around her shaking softly. Saber had to wonder if this was her same Mordred. The one Mordred of old would have never shown such emotion.

Perhaps they could move on from Camlann after all. She couldn't forgive Mordred for her betrayal, but perhaps she wouldn't hold it against her new sister.

Gently, Saber put her arms around her sister and patted her on her back. "It's going to be... okay, Mordred."

Her former progeny's only reply was to tighten her arms.

**** Eastern Kingdom, Stormwind City, The Keep ****

King Varian Wrynn was on his throne looking gravely at the two nobles before him. One represented the will of the House of Nobles, the other was the leader of the mages of Stormwind.

"Your Majesty, this is serious! I know she's a respected heroine but she cannot do whatever she pleases!"

The protestor in question was Lord Arelion of the House of Nobles. Currently owner of major lands in Elwynn and parts of Redridge, he had a monopoly on farmed goods and lumber. And if Duskwood were to be completely healed and active, he would then have to compete with the old Ebonlocke nobility of Darkshire.

"And don't forget she kicked out the mages of Dalaran from Karazhan! What a political disaster that's going to be!"

This was Archmage Xelan of the Stormwind Mages. He was a portly gentleman, but like many of Stormwind's mages, he originated from Dalaran. He came for the freedom and power vacuum left by the dead conjurers of old Stormwind. To be disrespected so had irked him like nothing else.

Varian looked over at his son to make sure the boy was paying attention and then back at the two petitioners before him, inwardly sighing. Rising to his feet he looked at the two, while they bent to his will on many issues, it was still a battle to get it done. Concessions always had to be made.

"I will talk to her when she returns," Varian promised but then turned to look at the two nobles once more. "I will however tell you that as long as I have known Arturia Pendragon, she has always placed the needs of Stormwind's people above petty concerns."

The two before him tryed to sputter in protest but he raised his hand to silence them.

"I am sure that you feel she completely ignored you, but, truth be told, I was about to send forces to aide Darkshire myself. And as a Mage, Xelan, I would have presumed you would be happy for Stormwind to no longer have the Karazhan ley line poisoning our land."

As one, the two nobles closed their mouths. There was nothing they could say to get around the good that had been done.

"Well then, you are dismissed."

After the two retreated, Varian went into his private study and let out a hearty laugh, something that he had not had the luxury of doing in so long. One part of it was in amusement, the other was shame. The Lioness had returned for less than a month, and had not wasted any time in securing the Kingdom's safety.

According to the reports he had received from Mathis Shaw, the Lioness' Pride was moving into Westfall to begin their offensive against the Defias. They had also begun construction of defensive towers at the entrance to Stranglethorn Vale.

It appeared Arturia still held true to the oath she gave his grandfather. He was taken out of his thoughts by a small knock on the door.

"Come in."

To Varian's surprise, the person that opened was a familiar beautiful blonde. "Lady Proudmoore, to what do I owe the pleasure."

"King Varian, I bring a missive from Warchief Thrall of the Horde. They would like to meet to discuss a mutual threat," the Leader of Theramoore announced formally.

Varian's eyes narrowed dangerously and his temper flared. The last time he went to a meeting with the Horde leader, the green skined assassin, Garona tried to kill him. Now they wanted him to present another opportunity for them to kill him again? Keeping his tone leveled, he asked her. "And pray tell, what is this mutual threat that I should risk a knife to my back again?"

Jaina looked as if she had been slapped by Varian's biting words. She could not deny it, twice now Varian had went to peace meetings at her behest, and both times had ended in disaster. Still, this was too important to ignore. Biting her lower lip and lowering her eyes she took in a deep breath to steel herself. "It's about Arthas."

TBC...

AN: And it's begins.

For the Wow Players, yes, this is or was the battle of Light's Hope Chapel. MUWHAHAHAHA. Let it sink in... of the ripple and repercussion.

Anywho you might wonder what happened with Tyrande and Arturia convo :P That is not important save that it happened and stuff has been said! ./flex

Yes that was Star Fall attack and a Variation of the Reckoning Bomb! Ayway, I got done with my "break" and wrote this :P Then WoD came out so that's distracting. Gotta get raid ready ya know! I hope you guys enjoy this ^_^ Other then that not much else need be said!

Also yes, Varian have attended two peace summit with the Horde and both time ended in disaster. First resulted in his kidnapping. Second resulted in Garona attacking him, yeah she's still alive.

Thanks you to those that took the time out to leave comments and reviews. It can only help me improved and it does make my day ^_^ Thanks again!

Pertinent Info:

Holy Orb Attack- Variation of the Reckoning Bomb made by the Argent Crusade, Actual Wow Attack

Gnome Siege Engines- More effective than regular ones for Necropoli, actual WoW engines

Mathis Shaw- Head of SI:7 think of it as the CIA or MI:6 of Stormwind and by extension the Allaince.

Darion Mograine- Champion of the Scourge and of the Lich King, Initially was betrayed by the Lich King to lure out the Scourge's greatest threat, Tirion Fordring. Leader of the Death Knight Order of the Ebon Blade

Death Knights- Champions and noteworthy soldiers that fell in battle against the Scourge, is a playable class in WoW.

House of Nobles- A parliament like government that rule the Kingdom when the King is not present. Most are corrupt and greedy. But they did help fund the rebuilding of Stormwind so they got a seat and prestige.

Duskwood- Dark gloomy area over run by all sort of dark creatures. Reason was because of Karazhan.

Havenshire and New Avalon- Actual WoW Town and Fortress. Was completely slaughtered by the Scourge, led by Darion Mograine.

**Omake: Courtesy of UNSPACY000!**

"Alright then, let's get going," Bedivere said as Saber walked back with Excalibur.

"Wait, you aren't going to renew your vows as a knight first?" Gawain asked.

Bedivere cocked her head to the side and placed her hand on her hip before she said, "Uh, Gawain, our vows were for life for as long as Our King was alive, right?"

"Well, yeah -" Gawain began before he was cut off.

"Right, and I didn't die, and while My King was certainly dying as I left, I didn't see My King actually die,"Bedivere said before she placed her hands on the sides of Saber's chest underneath her armpits as she scooped the shorter woman up in one smooth motion to shake the blonde in front of Gawain. "And here's My King safe and sound."

"Uh, but she did die -" Gawain began with a lifted finger before he was cut off again.

"Nonsense, you have no proof," Bedivere said as she tossed Saber into the air with a twist and caught the blonde so she was facing Bedivere before she began twirling around while she held the shorter woman aloft. "I, on the other hand, have a perfectly healthy King that I swore my life to. I know you'll whine about other worlds and a thousand years passing, but these are minor details when compared to the fact that my oath is still applicable. Face it, Gawain, I'm right and you're wrong. Again. This is why Our King would come to me instead of you for problems that had to be solved logically."

"Ducks are not made of wood," Gawain said firmly.

Bedivere stopped spinning as she clutched Saber's googly-eyed head to her bosom before she said, "Nonsense, it was a perfectly good argument for our past world. Now stop thinking and go knock up your harem before you overexert your poor brain."

"I don't have a harem!" Gawain said with a blush. "That's something Lancelot would do!"

"Lancelot is more 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am' than a harem builder," Bedivere said before her eyes narrowed as she began to twist back and forth with a wicked smile like a child with a secret. "Wait, do you mean to tell me that you haven't built yourself a harem and are willfully ignoring the bedroom eyes of all those female Elves that were following you around when I came to get Our King?"

"Uh, yes?" Gawain said like a schoolboy uncertain of the answer he was supposed to give his teacher.

"I guess I'll just have to teach them to be assertive and drag you off to the bedroom to have their wicked way with you," Bedivere said as her smile grew.

"Uh, I don't think -" Gawain said as his flight instincts began screaming in the back of his head before he was cut off.

"You never think," Bedivere said. "Look at it like this, you'll be repopulating your race with decent people and replace all those bastards that turned traitor and joined the Orcs."

Saber began to suffer from Night Elf tittie overload and began to froth at the mouth.

"Uh, oops?" Bedivere said as she held Saber away from her.

As always, C+C welcome , reviews appreciated!


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